


Jasmine and Bergamot

by BeastySweet



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Hufflepuff Reader, Modern Retelling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:55:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 60,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24921160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeastySweet/pseuds/BeastySweet
Summary: You started your sixth year at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry alongside Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Your last year did not end on a pleasant note, as you were close to being expelled because of bloody Malfoy, who you hated with every fiber of your being. Or did you?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s), Draco Malfoy/Reader, Draco Malfoy/You, Hannah Abbott/Neville Longbottom, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Original Male Character/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 75





	1. The Slug Club

**Author's Note:**

> Voldermort has been defeated for good, but many pure-blood supremacy sympathizers still lurk around the wizarding world. This is a retelling of Half-Blood Prince with the same characters but set in the present time, with many plot points changed, for obvious reasons. I borrowed many passages straight from the book to help with a full emergence into the story.

The morning at Jones's household was rather loud. Hannah was up for hours trying to fetch Jiji from under the couch where the latter found shelter after the many attempts by the toddler to force her into a doll stroller. Evie, who probably thought of Hannah’s efforts as a game, was enthusiastically barking and jumping around the couch on her short legs. As Hannah was getting progressively more frustrated and upset, the dog’s barking seemed to be getting more high pitched and demanding, crushing any of your hopes to fall back asleep. You could also hear what sounded like Ian arguing with Mina over something you could not quite pick up on. Then there were the more distant sounds of clanking, likely coming from the kitchen and that slightly sweet, yeasty aroma that smelled warm and cozy as if you were inhaling a warm blanket on a cold day - the smell of mom’s fresh baked bread that you always missed during the school year. Completely overwhelmed with the sounds and smells, any traces of sleepiness vanished and you completely snapped out of a lazy haze. You knew it was time to climb out of bed and face the day.  


‘Jeanie, honey, are you up?’ you heard the sound of your mother’s voice coming from somewhere on the first floor. You threw a glance at the clock on your table - it read 7:30 am. You sat on the edge of the bed touching your feet to the cold floor, _Everyone in this house wakes up way too early_ , you thought. Stretched, you reluctantly stood up and made your way to the closet.  


‘Coming!’ you shouted back in hopes she would be able to hear you. Opened the closet you realized there were not many clothes left for you to choose from - packed most of them the night before. The trunks you left by the door were already brought downstairs so you had to pick from whatever was left. With the hot weather lasting all last month, you were surprised to see the last couple of days to be rather cold. As you could hear the rain beating down on the roof throughout most of the night, you predicted the rest of the day to be cold and wet, with a brisk wind sweeping the rain droplets across the streets. You picked something you thought would be both appropriate for the weather and comfortable for the train ride. Before you reached the bottom of the stairs, your mom was already hurrying everyone to the kitchen.  


‘Jeanie, come eat,’ your mom, standing in the doorframe to the kitchen, beckoned you over to join the rest of the family at the table.  
Breakfast, despite being way too early, was as ever delicious. Although a witch, other than peeling and cleaning, your mom did not like using any magic while cooking. She insisted this way it came out with most love and care. Neither you nor your siblings could argue with that, as you have yet to taste something not delicious made by her. Homemade cooking was always something you missed during the school year, now not stopping yourself from indulging in as much of it as you could, you single-handedly finished half of a still-warm loaf of bread.  


‘Your dad asked me to remind the two of you to stay out of trouble, but to still have a good time and study hard. As always, he will see you during the Christmas break,’ your mom said pointing at you and Mina.  


‘Really depends on Malfoy’s behavior, mom,’ you mumbled back. Mina who sat across from you got visibly tense and looked away.  


‘I know, honey, I know. Your father is just worried about you two,’ your mom stood up to collect the plates and planted a kiss on top of Mina’s head, patting her shoulder.  


By the time the breakfast was over it was already past nine and was time to leave for King’s Cross Station. Your father’s chauffeur, always punctual, was already waiting when you exited the front door of your family’s house. With yours and Mina’s trunks packed, your guitar loaded, Jiji safely enclosed in a traveling basket, and your sister’s owl, Pepper, in a cage, you were ready to leave. Going to King’s Cross was a family adventure, your mom always said, especially for Ian, who had a bitter-sweet experience as he was only nine but so eager to go to Hogwarts. On the other hand, Hannah, too young, just loved looking at the _choo-choo_. As you went through the barrier between platforms nine and ten, you could not help but share the same sheer excitement Ian always experienced looking at the scarlet Hogwarts Express belching steam over the crowd. Platform 9¾ was already packed with students and their families. Making your way through the crowd you saw some first years with their muggle parents, their faces full of confusion and curiosity. You could always tell the muggle families apart, mostly because of their clothes, but also by their expressions. To everyone else, there were always the two groups - the wizards, and the muggles. Your family, however, did not seem to fully fit in either of the two. Your mom, although a very talented witch, always felt a stronger connection with the muggle world on her father’s side. Therefore, you and your siblings had a pretty typical to any other muggle family upbringing. Well, any other rich muggle family. Before being accepted into Hogwarts, you were attending a private school where you learned arithmetics, history, French, literature, arts, and music. However, no matter how muggle-like your family seemed, magic was always an important part of its life. You were in a way, one foot in each of those worlds, balancing as on a tightrope.  


‘It's time to go, girls,’ your train of thought was interrupted by your mother’s voice. Before saying goodbye, you made sure to give a tight hug to Hannah and pinch Ian’s cheek, who in return grimaced and stacked out his tongue. Your mom said her usual: ‘Be safe, study hard, eat well’ line she always does and gave both you and Mina a kiss on the cheek before seeing her two daughters walk towards the Hogwarts Express. Looking one more time over your shoulder for the final wave you headed to the prefect carriage, while Mina joined a couple of her friends in one of the empty compartments.  


Met up with Ron and Hermione inside the train, the three of you entered the prefect meeting together. You found it to be just as boring as last year, if not more. This time, however, you could not help but notice Draco Malfoy’s absence. Pansy Parkinson was sitting alone looking like her average self - mildly annoyed and remarkably pug-like. You sat next to Ernie Macmillian who shot you a smile. Unlike Hermione who took her role very seriously, you kept spacing out throughout the entire briefing, almost falling asleep at least twice. 

You were excited when it was finally over. Next along with other prefects, it was time to patrol the corridors before you could retire to your compartment for the rest of the ride.  
You and Earnie were considered the “softest” prefects as the two of you were not only Hufflepuff but also most lenient to students. Nobody took the two of you seriously and the corridor duty was more of a chore for both of you. After last year’s incident, however, you could feel that the atmosphere has changed. Going through the train, you kept noticing students speaking quieter and stopping whatever they were doing to appear orderly.  


‘They are scared of your wrath, you know,’ said Ernie, opening a door to the next carriage.  


‘My wrath?’ you laughed.  


‘Yeah, you really showed that nobody could mess with you,’ Ernie replied.  
It all worked out for the best then, you thought. Not only were you able to put Malfoy in his place and not get expelled, but, now, you are finally being taken seriously as a prefect. That thought made you smile as you followed after Ernie. 

After a while, you were done with patrolling and were finally able to join the rest of your friends and relax until the train reached its destination. When you entered the compartment, Hermione and Ron were already chatting up with Harry, Neville, and Luna.  


‘Hi, Jean, come join us,’ said Harry gesturing to the empty seat next to the window.  


‘Has the lunch trolley passed by yet, I am starving,’ you said dropping into the seat beside Hermione.  


‘Not yet, unfortunately,’ answered Ron rubbing his stomach.  


‘I'm sure it will be here in no time.’ Hermione retorted, quickly changing the topic, ‘But can we talk about how Malfoy’s not doing prefect duty? He's just sitting in his compartment with the other Slytherins, Ron and I saw him when we passed.’  


‘Yeah, why isn’t he there bullying first-years?’ agreed Ron.  


‘Maybe he got bored. Being a prefect is not good enough of a job for his Highness,’ you suggested mockingly.  


‘Or maybe, he is too scared to get his butt kicked by Jean again,’ for the first time since you sat down, Luna looked up from the magazine she was reading to participate in the conversation.  
Everyone had a good laugh from Luna’s remark. Everyone but you that was. All you could muster was an awkward smile that clearly did not fool anyone.  


‘Jean, are you okay?’ Hermione reached to touch your shoulder.  
But before you could answer, the compartment door slid open and a breathless third-year girl stepped inside.  


‘I’m supposed to deliver these to Neville Longbottom, Jean Jones, and Harry P-Potter,’ she faltered, as her eyes met Harry’s and she turned red. She was holding out three scrolls of parchment tied with a violet ribbon. Perplexed, you, Harry, and Neville took the scroll addressed to each of you and the girl ran out of the compartment, slamming the door behind herself.  
Opened the invitation you read:

_‘Dear Jean,  
I would be delighted if you would join me for a bite of lunch in compartment C.  
Sincerely, Professor H.E.F. Slughorn’_

‘Who is Professor Slughorn? What does he want me for?’ asked Neville nervously, as he was expecting detention.  


‘He was my mom’s professor when she went to Hogwarts…’ you replied confused.  


‘Well, I suppose we’ll have to go, won’t we?’ said Harry getting up.  
When you reached compartment C, you saw that you were not Slughorn’s only invitees, although judging by the enthusiasm of Slughorn’s welcome, Harry was the most anticipated.  


‘Harry, m’boy!’ said Slughorn, jumping up at the sight of him, ‘Good to see you, good to see you! And you must be Mr. Longbottom and Miss Jones!”  
Neville and you nodded, former looking scared. At a gesture from Slughorn, you sat down in the only three empty seats, nearest to the door.  
You glanced around the table and was able to recognize Blaise Zabini, who you, of course, was very well acquainted with; there were also two seventh-year boys you have never seen before and, in the corner beside Slughorn, you were happy to see Ginny who looked as though she was not entirely sure how she had got there.  
Slughorn asked if Harry knew everyone, introducing him to Zabini first, then to a large, wire-haired boy Cormac McLaggen; then to the thin, nervous-looking youth beside the first seventh-year, Marcus Belby. Ginny, of course, did not need an introduction to the three of you.  
Slughorn began to ask McLaggen and Belby about their relatives while offering around numerous trays of various foods. Professor seemed to know both Cormac’s and Marcus’ family rather well, making you think that everyone’s presence at this lunch was due to the connection to somebody well-known or influential or someone Slughorn knew personally - everyone except Ginny. Your theory was further proved when Slughorn finally addressed you.  


‘How about you, Jean?’ he looked up at you, passing around another tray of meat pies, ‘Your mother, Owena, was among the favorite students of mine. She and her sister Gwenog - Gwenog Jones, of course, Captain of the Holyhead Harpies! And your father! Such a brilliant family!’  


You felt immensely uncomfortable and shifted in your seat, smiling shyly. You tried your best to avoid looking at anyone, although you could feel Zabini’s and others' eyes on you. You shot a couple of dry replies saying both your mom and your aunt were doing good. When Slughorn eventually moved on to Harry, you felt immensely relieved his conversation with you was over. Being who Harry was, Slughorn’s questioning dragged out for a good hour, accompanied by contemptuous looks thrown by Zabini. Even after being done with Harry’s interrogation, the afternoon wore on with Slughorn meandering off into a long-winded reminiscence about his life and more anecdotes about illustrious wizards he had taught, all of whom had been delighted to join what he called the ‘Slug Club’ at Hogwarts. By the look on Harry's face, he, just like you, could not wait to leave, but also could not see how to do so politely.  


Finally, as the train emerged from yet another long misty stretch into a red sunset, Slughorn looked around, realizing they must not be far from arriving at Hogsmeade. Slughorn sent everyone back to their compartments, not before inviting those present to drop by his office at Hogwarts. You could not wait to leave so you were the first one out of the door. ‘Well, off you go, off you go!’ the last thing you heard Slughorn say before you exited. 

Hearing Slughorn talks about your father brought back memories of last year. A chill ran up your back as you hurried to the restroom at the end of the carriage. Surely, you thought, splashing cold water on your face, _Slughorn knows why you go by your mother’s last name, doesn't he?_ He could not be so ignorant to just reveal the identity of your father to the group of students, no matter how bright and remarkable he thought they were. But you could not take those chances, no, you had to make sure Malfoy did not blab anything. Of course, you could not just enter the Slytherin sixth-year compartment and confront Draco. You had to somehow get Malfoy to meet you instead.  


‘Here you are, we lost you’, you got pulled from your thoughts as you exited the restroom, coming face to face with Harry.  


‘Sorry, couldn’t wait to leave _that_ …’ you mumbled.  


‘I know what you mean..’ agreed Neville. Something told you he was just as uncomfortable at the lunch as you. 

Three of you shared a chuckle making your way back to Hermione, Ron, and Luna who have been waiting for you for what seemed like forever. The moment you returned to the compartment, they showered the three of you with questions about the party. You answered any that were addressed to you, but your mind was elsewhere, still thinking about your father and bloody Malfoy. Dozed off in your thoughts for the remainder of the road, you did not notice the train coming to a stop at Hogsmeade station.


	2. Malfoy

You approached the carriages that were to take you and the rest of the students to the castle. With the rain coming down with increasing force and overall tempestuous weather, this was the first time you saw the hoods attached to the top of carriages, transforming them into little secluded chambers. Climbing in, you felt like a royalty about to parade across your lands. As you were last to get in, your hand reached to the door handle to shut it behind you, but before you could, you had a sudden urge to look back, almost as you knew someone was waiting for you to turn around. Your eyes met a piercing gaze, a chill ran up your back. _Malfoy_. Draco was yet to climb into the carriage with the rest of the Slytherin gang. He stood, staring at you, rain dropping on top of his head.

‘Jean, what’s wrong?’ you heard Luna’s soft voice and quickly turned back to face your friends.

‘It’s nothing … ,’ you responded, swiftly closing the door. You took a seat next to your Ravenclaw friend. During the ride, you were happy to distract yourself by taking a closer look at the issue of _The Quibbler_ , she has been carrying around since you left London. Luna enthusiastically showed it to you the moment you settled down. Although you did not often get a chance to, you loved reading _The Quibbler_ , despite it often being referred to as a "lunatic rag", due to the conspiracy theories and discussions of imaginary creatures it published. It reminded you of reading fantasy novels, making it greatly enchanting. _The Quibbler_ possessed that speculative imagination, but instead of magic, that was quite real, and other muggle created ‘fantasy” creates, Xenophilius Lovegood’s work included Crumple-Horned Snorkacks along with other mythical creatures no muggle, or anyone really, ever heard of. In a way, it made you feel as if you were a muggle yourself, oblivious to the real magical creatures and beings in this world. At times, unfortunately, _The Quibbler_ was quite similar to British tabloids with its wild theories and gossips. An interesting combination of a thing you loved and a thing you hated.

Shortly, the carriages pulled up to the gates framed by the tall pillars on both sides, each topped with a winged boar. Despite the rain, Hagrid, always so cheerful, was waiting outside, eager to greet everyone. 

‘This way!’ he shouted, beckoning you all over. 

Now out of the carriages, students hurried up the stairs, following the friendly half-giant to the Entrance Hall. After you made it to the Great Hall, you sat close to Mina who was joyfully chatting with other girls in her year. Before anyone could indulge in the first feast of the year, the sorting ceremony was to take place. The group of first years crowded up at the front of the tables with the sorting hat on top of its chair, before them. By the looks of it, the Hat was about to perform its annual song, Professor McGonagal ready beside it. 

The Hat said more of the same things it says every year - describing the traits of each house and advising the students to unite together. The ceremony itself was rather quick, today, it seemed, the Sorting Hat was definite in its decisions. Hufflepuff was joined by twenty-five or so new students who all looked quite happy with their sorting. They all quickly took the empty seats at the end of the table, with the rest of the students applauding loudly. 

‘Although others will try to prove otherwise, Hufflepuff is the best house’ Ernie Macmillian encouraged the newcomers. 

‘We are a big family here. Once a Badger, always a Badger!’ you cheered. As a prefect and a mentor, promoting house spirit and unity, along with ensuring order and enforcing a curfew, was an important part of your duties. 

Once all of the first years took their seats at their respective house tables, stretching far and wide across the tables the trays of food and pitchers of drinks magically appeared before your eyes. Still rather full from the afternoon lunch with Slughorn, you took this time to look over the Slytherin table. With the entirety of the Slytherin gang in your eyesight, you grimaced. Crabbe and Goyle were busy staffing their faces; Nott flirted with some girls across from him, you could tell because he had that stupid facial expression he made around girls; beside him, Zabini was speaking to Greengrass; and Pansy Parkinson was giggling as she was practically hanging on top of Malfoy. Zabini must have noticed you staring, he leaned in to whisper something to Pansy who immediately looked straight up and flipped you off. 

‘She is absolutely and utterly intolerable, isn’t she?’ whispered Hannah Abbott, noticed your unpleasant interaction with the Slytherins. 

‘She truly is. Every single one of them,’ you sighed, ‘Do they think being sorted into Slytherin gives them a free pass to being a grade-A asshole?’ you continued, glaring. 

'I don't understand why girls are so crazy over them. Love truly makes you blind…" Hannah continued. 

_More stupid than blind_ , you thought. But she was right. Pansy was far from being the only girl swooning over Malfoy. Incidentally, the three of them - Malfoy, Zabini, and Nott were quite popular with the opposite, and not only, gender, despite their utterly vile personalities. What girls found in them was one of the world's great mysteries that escaped your understanding. 

‘If I am ever crashing on one of them,’ you turned to Hannah, ‘Avada Kedavra me, please.’ Hannah laughed in response. 

Shortly after the food, and the puddings that replaced it completely vanished from the tables, Dumbledore got to his feet at the staff table. Almost instantly, the talk and laughter echoing around the Hall died away. As per tradition, he welcomed the new and old students broadly smiling, his arms opened wide as though to embrace the whole room. He proceeded to mention the ban on any joke items bought at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes; addressed those wishing to play for their House Quidditch teams and the application process; as well as called for new Quidditch commentators. His next statement, however, was of the most importance. 

‘We are pleased to welcome a new member of staff this year. Professor Slughorn,’ Slughorn stood up, his bald head gleaming in the candlelight, ‘is a former colleague of mine who has graciously agreed to resume his old post of Potions master.’ 

‘ _Potions_?’ 

‘ _Potions_?’ 

The word echoed all over the Hall as people wondered whether they had heard him right. 

‘Professor Snape, meanwhile,’ said Dumbledore, raising his voice so that it carried over all the muttering, ‘will be taking over the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.’ 

_Harry is not going to like this_ , you thought. And as if you predicted, you heard a loud _No!_ coming from the Gryffindor table. 

‘Did you not tell Harry and others Slughorn was mom’s potions professor back in the day?’ asked Mina, leaning over Hannah. 

‘No- I assumed they knew ... ’ you stumbled over your words. 

Snape, who was sitting on Dumbledore’s right, did not stand up at the mention of his name, merely raised a hand in lazy acknowledgment of the applause from the Slytherin table. 

The whole Hall had erupted in a buzz of conversations at the news of Snape finally achieving his heart’s desire. He was not the right fit for the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, it was obvious to you and literally everyone else outside of Slytherin. Defense Against the Dark Arts was one of your favorite subjects, and although you knew Professor Snape was not going to pick on you, you were not sure Snape could be trusted in teaching it. The Gryffindor trio definitely was going to hate every second of it. This year was going to be a _very_ long one, you noted to yourself. 

Thankfully, Dumbledore did not announce any other stuff changes, and after saying his final remarks, concluded by sending everyone to bed. The hundreds of students began to hurry out of the Great Hall towards their dormitories. 

You gathered all the first years to shepherd them down to the dungeons - to the Hufflepuff common room. Careful to protect your kids from being stampeded, you, as per usual, waited until everyone exited, and only then lead the new Hufflepuffs out of the Hall. 

Making your way to the stone stairs leading to the dungeons, you noticed Malfoy leaning against the wall just around the corner of the corridor. You found it rather peculiar but thought of it as an excellent opportunity to talk to him. Caught up with Ernie you asked him to proceed without you. 

'I need to do something, cover for me okay?' you whispered to your fellow prefect. Positively nodded, Ernie called over the first-years and took them away, down the stairs. 

With his gang nowhere insight, you could confront Malfoy on your own terms. Waited until you could no longer see the group of Hufflepuffs, you walked over. Draco looked up as you carefully approached. 

'I hoped you would stay behind' he spoke, the sudden sound of his voice made you flinch. 

'What did you want, Malfoy?' you said trying to hide confusion in your voice. 

The young Slytherin stepped away from the wall and turned to face you. The Malfoy standing in front of you did not look like the usual arrogant Draco you knew; he seemed nervous, and the usual smirk was completely gone from his face. 

'I wanted to say I am sorry,' he finally forced out. 

_Did you hear that right?_

'Excuse me?' you replied, baffled. 

Malfoy took a step towards you which, in return, made you step back. He looked you straight in the eyes and repeated himself, 'I am sorry.' 

'What are you apologizing for exactly?' you asked, trying to sound indifferent. 

'You know' 

'I know? And what am I supposed to do now?' you scoffed. 

_Did he feel bad_ , you asked yourself. Surely Malfoys did not experience guilt, they were simply not able to. What exactly was this then? An attempt to make him feel better for what he had done? To feel less embarrassed for you handing his ass to him? 

'You are supposed to accept it, Jones,' Draco snapped, 'I apologized so you have to say you forgive me.' 

You were not sure if you were more confused or angry. 

'Is this the first apology you ever had to produce? Because it really shows, you know.' 

'Are you going to accept it or not?' Draco said curtly, getting positively irritated. He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair, combing it back. 

'First of all, _Malfoy_ , _I_ am not the person you should be apologizing to. Second, I'm not too sure what caused this sudden gesture of "remorse", but I don't want it,' you almost shouted. You were fuming, completely forgotten about what you even wanted to talk to Draco about, you quickly turned on your heels about to storm down the corridor. 

'Wait!’' you felt a hand grab your wrist, slightly pulling you backward. As you stopped, his hand retreated off you. 

'I _am_ sorry, okay?' he pleaded, 'I can't stop thinking about what you said- you are right, about everything …' Draco stopped to take another deep breath, 'I was being a despicable, intolerable asshole.' 

You froze where you were standing as if he cast a body binding spell on you. Now, certainly, you were more confused than ever. Shocked to hear Draco repeating your insult to _him_ , you simply could not believe what you were hearing. 

'I don't know what to say,' you muttered. 

'You don't have to reply, really. I-I just wanted to say it,' Draco responded, staring at you vehemently. 

'It's not my place to forgive you Malfoy,' you said, 'But I do accept your apology.' 

‘I understand,’ Draco nodded. 

‘I’ve got to go’ you declared, ‘Goodnight.’ 

Draco did not seem to have anything else to say as he simply nodded as you walked away. You could not exactly wrap your head around what just happened. Deep in thought, your legs carried you down to the dungeons and along the corridors, you did not even notice making it to your bedroom. 

‘Time to sleep this off, Jiji’, you placed a kiss on top of your cat’s head, who had already settled on the bed. Something about his demeanor told you, Malfoy did not tell anyone about your dad. _Tomorrow is going to be interesting_ , you thought before drifting to sleep.


	3. Classes Begin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the odd interaction with Malfoy, you dreamed of nothing more than to go back to classes, homework, and normality. Has Draco really changed or is it just a ruse?

The ceiling of the Great Hall was serenely blue and streaked with frail, wispy clouds, mimicking the squares of sky visible through the high mullioned windows. When you joined your friends at Gryffindors’ table, Ron and Harry were already tucked into porridge, eggs, and bacon. Sat down, you were able to catch the end of their retelling of the embarrassing conversation with Hagrid they had the previous evening.

‘But he can’t really think we’d continue Care of Magical Creatures!’ Hermione cried, looking distressed. ‘I mean, when have any of us expressed… you know… any _enthusiasm_?’ 

‘That’s it, though, isn’t it?’ said Ron, swallowing an entire fried egg whole. ‘Do you reckon anyone’s going to go on to N.E.W.T?’ 

‘I am,’ you answered quietly. 

‘You are?’ Ron coughed as he had trouble swallowing the egg he just gobbled up. 

‘Yeah… I always thought about becoming a Magizoologist. Like Newt Scamander, you know?’ 

‘ _You did_?’ it was Harry’s turn to perplex. 

‘I mean, you guys always made so much effort in classes,’ you muttered. 

‘We like _Hagrid_ , not the bloody subject,’ Ron replied, speaking for three of them. 

Neither Harry nor Hermione answered. They knew perfectly well that nobody in your year, except for you, would want to continue Care of Magical Creatures. The Gryffindor trio avoided Hagrid’s eye and returned his cheery wave only half-heartedly when Hagrid left the staff's table and made his way out of the Hall. They knew full well his heart was going to break when only one of the four of you would show up for the class. 

After the meal, you remained in your places, awaiting for Professor McGonagall’s and in your case, Professor Sprout’s descend from the staff table. This year, the distribution of timetables was more complicated than usual. The Heads of Houses needed to first confirm that everybody had achieved the necessary O.W.L. grades to continue with their chosen N.E.W.T.s. Professor Sprout almost immediately cleared you to continue with Care of Magical Creatures, Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Herbology, Ancient Runes, and Potions. You waited for Hermione who had a similar timetable, except for taking Arithmancy instead of Care of Magical Creatures. Without further ado, you two shot off to a first-period Ancient Runes class. 

Professor Bathsheda Babbling was happy to see you and Hermione back in her class. To be honest, you were not sure who you wanted to become after graduating, so you took as many subjects as you could, skipping on Arithmancy. Although like Hermione, you were an overachiever, Care of Magical Creatures attracted you way more than numerology and ‘predicting future using numbers’. Ancient Runes was a homework heavy subject, so taking an easy period where you could spend time with Hagrid and Fang was something you were looking for. By the end of the class, the difficulty of Ancient Ruins spoke for itself. 

‘A fifteen-inch essay, two translations and we’ve got to read these by Wednesday!’ Hermione complained to Ron and Harry as four of you were queuing outside the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. The classroom door opened as she spoke and Snape stepped into the corridor. Silence fell over the queue immediately. 

‘Inside,’ he said. 

Looking over the classroom, you could see that Snape had imposed his personality upon the room already; it was gloomier than usual, with curtains drawn over the windows, and was lit by candlelight. New pictures adorned the walls, many of them showing people who appeared to be in pain. Nobody spoke as they settled down, looking around at the shadowy, gruesome silhouettes around. You were about to sit beside Hermione, but before you could put your bag down, Snape glared at you and pointed at the desk at the front of the class. _That is just great_ , you thought. You shot Hermione a pained look and proceeded to sit by yourself at the front. Snape’s introduction to the class was far from pleasant. Just when you thought this classroom could not get any more depressing, Professor Snape commenced his tirade. 

‘The Dark Arts,’ he began, ‘are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible.’ 

That description reminded you of Hydra from Disney's Hercules. Replaying the scene in your head you, to your horror, involuntarily chuckled. Trying to hide your amusement you loudly coughed, as that was any better. Snape stopped his parade of the classroom to look at you. 

‘I am sorry, sir,’ you said quietly. For certain, if it was Harry or Ron in your place, they would have been immediately shamed and dismissed, for you, however, Snape seemed to have a soft spot, so he left you alone. Snape set off again towards his desk, the class watching him as he walked, his robes billowing behind him. 

‘... you are, I believe, complete novices in the use of non-verbal spells. What is the advantage of a non-verbal spell?’ he continued. 

Hermione’s hand shot into the air. Snape took a look around at everybody, and as if on purpose, ignoring the only hand raised in the classroom, said, ‘Miss Jones?’ 

His question took you by surprise. Was it a punishment for the coughing earlier? 

‘Non-verbal spells allow you to have a split second advantage as your opponent has no warning about what kind of magic you’re about to perform, sir,’ you answered with confidence. 

‘Very good, Miss Jones. Five points to Hufflepuff,’ said Snape and you smiled. You were excited to earn some points, particularly since you lost your house 100 last year. 

Snape was not generous in giving points to anyone else. He completely ignored Hermione repelling Neville’s Jelly-Leg Jinx without uttering a single word during the class’ practice of non-verbal spells in pairs. Snape was more interested in picking on Ron who was clearly struggling in jinxing Harry. His face turned purple from pressing his lips tightly to save himself from the temptation of muttering the incantation. 

After watching Ron’s pathetic attempts - as Snape called them - he quickly turned his wand on Harry, who in return reacted instinctively, yelling, ‘ _Protego_!’ Harry’s shield charm was so strong, it made Snape lose his balance and hit a desk. The whole class had looked around and now watched Snape. 

‘ _Uh oh_ ’, you whispered to yourself. 

‘Do you remember me telling you we are practicing non-verbal spells, Potter?’ scowled Snape, shooting Harry a look of pure venom. 

‘Yes,’ said Harry stiffly. 

‘Yes, _sir_.’ 

‘There is no need to call me “sir”, Professor.’ Harry replied so fast, he surely did not know what he was saying exactly. 

‘ _Uh oh_ ’ you said to yourself once again. 

According to Snape, he did not take cheek from anyone, not even the _Chosen One_ , Harry, surely, received himself detention. Out of the classroom, Harry was fuming, muttering something to Ron and Hermione. 

Before you could leave the room you heard Snake's voice echo in the classroom, 'Miss Jones.' 

You turned around to see the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor standing behind you. 

'Yes, professor?' you said, your voice slightly cracking on the second word. 

'I would suggest you review the Draught of Living Death, as it may be useful for your potions class this afternoon,' Snape said coldly, 'you must still have your mother's copy of _Advanced Potion Making_ , I assume?' 

You certainly did. That textbook, with notes and little diagrams made by your mother, was your secret weapon this year. Over the summer, knowing the curriculum by heart, she made you practice brewing advanced potions to prepare you for the upcoming school year. _Professor Snape is not going to go easy on you_ was her reasoning for all-encompassing brewing instructions and demonstrations she made you sit through and then repeat yourself. 

You did not get a chance to share the information about Potions class you received from professor Snape with either of your friends, as while the trio enjoyed a free period, you had to make your way to Care of Magical Creatures and see the disappointment on Hagrid's face - at a lack of students - in person. As you expected, after waiting for over 10 mins for someone else to show up, Hagrid was visibly crushed. 

‘I am so excited, Hagrid!’ you cheered, ‘Private lessons from my favorite professor!’ 

Hagrid bent over to hug you. You could swear you saw tears pooling up in his eyes. He did not need to speak for you to understand how much you being there meant to him. 

‘If I don’t get to pet a dragon this year, I will be _really_ disappointed,’ you said firmly. 

Hagrid laughed at your words, saying he could not make any promises. The period passed fast as you and Hagrid spent the majority of it in his hut drinking tea and playing with Fang. When it was your time to leave, Hagrid gave you books to read for the next class, and you made your way back to the castle. 

With the next period free, you retreated to Hufflepuff Dungeon to work on Snape’s homework. You made camp at one of the tables tucked in the corner of the room surrounded on two sides by colorful perfusion of plants and flowers, relishing the atmosphere of Hufflepuff’s common room. Homework turned out to be more complex than you expected, taking almost the entire period to finish, with merely 10 mins left before the afternoon's Potions. 

About to head out back to the dungeons, you bumped into Mina who was coming back from her classes. 

'Hey!' she smiled at you, 'you won't believe what happened just now.' 

'Do tell!' you said taking a seat on one of the armchairs next to the fireplace. 

'Draco approached me after my Herbology class,' continued Mina. 

_That little_ -, you thought. 

'...and he apologized,' she concluded, interrupting your speculations. 

'Did he really?' 

'Yeah, he seemed so sincere too! Maybe…' she started again. 

'No!' you said, your voice firm and sharp, 'don't you even think about it. Him apologizing to you, does not change what he had done, you understand?' 

Mina sighed. By the look on her face, she knew that herself. She might have been naive and overly trusting, but your sister was not stupid. 

'I know, I know… it is too good to be true to think that he actually likes me' she replied sadly. 

Unfortunately, your sister was one of those girls swooning over Malfoy, and his bad-boy look. In your opinion, it was not a look at all, Malfoy was straight up a bad person with a shit personality. You did not get what such a friendly, kind, outgoing person like Mina could even see in him. 

'Date anyone else. _Literally_ anyone except those Slytherin delinquents.' If you could roll your eyes more, you would surely be able to see behind you. 

'Don't call them that,' Mina slightly hit your arm, 'not all of them are bad.' 

'I just don't want to see you hurt _again_ , okay?' you said, taking your sister's hand. 

'I know, I'm sorry,' Mina leaned in to wrap her arms tightly around you, 'you are the best sister anyone could ask for.' 

You could not help but smile hearing those words. You, indeed, tried hard to be the best sister to Mina. Unfortunately, this sweet moment between you two was interrupted by the bell ringing for the afternoon's double Potions class. 

When you arrived in the corridor that for so long had been Snape’s habitat, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were already waiting by the classroom, Ernie chatting them up. 

‘Jean!’ he shouted, noticing your approach. 

‘Hey Ernie, I see we are in the minority here too, huh?’ you said, looking around the group of students who were able to progress to N.E.W.T. level potions. There were four Slytherins, including Malfoy, of course; four Ravenclaws, the Gryffindor trio, you, and Ernie. 

Before Ernie could reply, the door to the classroom swung open, and Slughorn's belly preceded him out of the door. Inviting everyone inside, Slughorn’s great walrus mustache curved above his mouth, greeting Harry, Zabini, and you. The room, unlike the times of Snape, was filled with sunlight and intriguing aromas and vapors. The four Slytherins took a table together, as did the four Ravenclaws. The rest five of you were left to share a table, nearest to a gold-colored cauldron that was emitting one of the most seductive scents you had ever inhaled: the smell of ocean breeze, peonies, and freshly baked bread. You breathed slowly and deeply as if trying to fill your insides with the alluring aroma of potion’s fumes. Incidentally, there was a cauldron beside each of the tables occupied by students. The Slytherins were sitting near the cauldron with what looked like plain water boiling away inside it. 

‘It’s Veritaserum, a colorless, odorless potion that forces the drinker to tell the truth,’ said Hermione as Slughorn has pointed to it. 

‘Very good, very good!’ cheered Slughorn, “now,’ he continued, pointing at the cauldron nearest the Ravenclaw table, ‘this one here is pretty well-known… features in a few Ministry leaflets lately, too… who can-?’ 

‘Polyjuice Potion,’ you quietly whispered to yourself, no one had heard you. 

Hermione, however, was the fastest in giving the right answer aloud. Before Slughorn even introduced the first potion, you knew what the mother-of-pearl sheen potion was near your table, but not wanting to compete with Hermione, you stayed quiet once again. 

‘It’s Amortentia!’ she shouted, ‘the most powerful love potion in the world!’ 

Slughorn was incredibly impressed by Hermione’s talents, especially since finding out she was Muggle-born. Earning twenty well-earned points for Gryffindor, Miss Granger turned to Harry and Ron with a radiant expression. 

Seemingly concluding the potion demonstration, Slughorn announced the beginning of the class itself. 

‘Sir, you haven’t told us what’s in that one,’ said Ernie Macmillan, pointing at a small black cauldron standing on Slughorn’s desk. 

‘Felix Felics,’ you whispered again, but this time Slughorn was able to hear you, he turned to face your table. 

‘That's right, Miss Jones. Good eye,’ he said, ‘I take it, that you know what it does?’ 

‘It’s liquid luck,’ you said, ‘It makes whoever drinks it lucky.’ 

The whole class seemed to sit up, including the Slytherin table, who until now had no interest in the discussion taking place. 

‘Quite right, take ten points to Hufflepuff,’ Slughorn smiled. 

Incidentally, Slughorn did not brew Felix Felics just for fun, it was to be a prize in today’s class. A prize to the student who did best in brewing the Draught of Living Death, the recipe to which could be found on page ten of Advanced Potion-Making. By this time, you completely forgot about your odd conversation with Snape, but hearing the challenge Slughorn imposed upon the class, it rushed back to your memory. 

There was a scraping as everyone drew their cauldrons towards themselves, and loud clunks as people began adding weights to their scales, complete silence fell upon the classroom. You knew that the recipe in the original textbook was not exactly accurate as some ingredients were not needed and, thus, crossed out by your mother. You took your time, trying to properly remember your mom’s lessons from summer vacation. 

The disadvantage of Potions was always the lack of privacy in your work. Everyone was looking at what others were doing. Glancing over at Hermione’s workstation, you could see her potion already resembled the ‘smooth, blackcurrant-colored liquid’ mentioned as the ideal halfway stage. However, you began to worry a little when your friend started cutting the Sopophorous Bean, well, _attempting_ to cut it. 

‘You have to crush it with the flat side of the dagger,’ you tried to help Hermione, who was already red-faced from struggling to cut into the bean. 

‘It says in the book to cut it,’ she said dismissing your advice. 

As you looked over at Harry, you were happy to see him following the same technique as you. _The Chosen One was doing great_ , you thought. Harry and you, almost synchronized, scooped the juice squeezed out of the bean into the cauldron. The potion immediately turned exactly the shade of lilac described by the textbook. 

The stirring instructions in the textbook were also incomplete, instead of stirring counterclockwise until the potion turned clear as water, you had to add a clockwise stir every seventh counterclockwise stir. Continuing on your stirring, you heard frustrated Hermione interrogating Harry on his success in turning his potion the palest pink. 

‘And time’s… up!’ Slughorn called. ‘Stop stirring, please!’ 

Slughorn moved slowly between the tables, examining everyone’s cauldrons. He made no comments, but occasionally gave the potions a stir or a sniff. At last, he reached the table where the five of you were sitting. He smiled ruefully at the tar-like substance in Ron’s cauldron. He passed over Ernie’s navy concoction. Hermione’s potion received an approving nod. Then he saw yours and Harry’s, and a look of incredulous delight spread over his face. You have never seen any of your professors filled with such joy before. 

‘Incredible! Not just one, but two almost perfect results!’ he cried to the dungeon, ‘Excellent, excellent Harry and Jean! Good lord, it’s clear you both inherited your mothers’ talents! Here you are - two bottles of Felix Felicis, as promised, and use it well, you two!’ 

You and Harry looked at each other grinning, both feeling a combination of delight at the disappointed looks on the Slytherins’ faces, and guilt at the disappointed expression on Hermione’s. 

‘Well, it wasn’t exactly your own work, was it?’ she addressed Harry and you exiting the classroom. 

‘It's not exactly our fault the original textbook publishes unreliable instructions, Hermione. I tried to help-’ you replied. 

Your friend looked embarrassed and angry. Grabbing Ron by his arm, Hermione hurried down the corridor. 

‘Hermione gets like this sometimes,’ Harry muttered, and giving you a comforting smile, ran after his friends. 

‘Well, well, little Miss Perfect,’ Parkinson scoffed behind you, irritating your whole existence. 

The four Slytherins were the absolute last people on earth you wanted to speak to right now, but it looked like you had no other choice. 

‘What do you want, Parkinson,’ you asked curtly. 

‘I don’t think your copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_ is the standard edition, isn't it?’ she confronted you, walking up uncomfortably close. 

You did not notice how Theodor Nott walked behind you and with one swift motion pulled your mother’s textbook out of your grip. He quickly avoided your attempt to snatch it back and walked over to the rest of the gang. 

‘Enough,’ muttered Malfoy, jerking the book out of Nott’s hands despite his confused looks back at him, ‘Maybe, _next time_ , we should try harder if we want to beat Jones.’ He walked over to you, his hand extended, offering the textbook back. 

Not sure if he was to pull back as soon as you tried to take it, you carefully reached out. The second your hand gripped the edge of the book, Malfoy’s hand let go. 

‘Afterall, if Jones _is_ cheating,’ he looked over at you once again, ‘it won’t be the first time she'll be in danger of being expelled,’ he concluded with that annoying smirk on his stupid face. Malfoy’s remark caused the other Slytherins to quiet down their protests. 

‘In your dreams, Malfoy.’ you quipped and hurried to leave the corridor as fast as you humanly could. 

In a way, you were happy, the smug Malfoy everyone knew and hated was back, the apologizing Slytherin who suddenly was nice to you just did not sit well. You were glad your previous dynamic of hating each other was back.


	4. The Dinner Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this chapter took me way longer than I thought. Hope you enjoy <3

The sixth-years free periods were not the hours of blissful relaxation you had hoped for, but times in which to attempt to keep up with the amount of homework you were being given. Not only were you studying as though you had exams every day, but the lessons themselves had become more demanding than ever before. You barely understood half of what Professor McGonagall said to you these days; asking her to repeat instructions once or even twice. However, there was one class you undeniably excelled at - Potions. Slughorn was raving about yours and Harry’s abilities, saying that he rarely taught someone so talented. Neither Ron nor Hermione were happy about that. Although you offered to share your mom’s notes and your expertise, Hermione was firmly ploughing on with what she called the ‘official’ instructions. Ron tried to read from Harry’s book, but deciphering Prince’s handwriting turned out to be too difficult for him, and making Harry read out loud was too suspicious. For some reason, Ron completely refused your help when you offered your mother’s copy instead. Gryffindor was a proud house, after all.

Non-verbal spells were now expected, not only by Snape but in Charms and Transfiguration too. All of your classmates, including yourself, at least to some degree, seemed to be struggling with making spells work without saying incantations aloud. Herbology was a relief from the constant straining in keeping your mouth shut in other classes. Despite Professor Sprout making you deal with more dangerous plants, you were still allowed to swear loudly if the _Venomous Tenacula_ seized you unexpectedly from behind. With the enormous workload and the frantic hours of practicing non-verbal spells, you had no time for any social life outside of your House. You had not even gotten a chance to pick up your guitar or to send an owl home. It had honestly even been a while since you hung out with Ron, Hermione, and Harry outside of classrooms. With the Quidditch tryouts approaching, you saw the trio even less. You, of course, were a huge disappointment to your aunt as you had absolutely no interest in Quidditch. You did not like flying in general. No matter an airplane, or a broom, you were perfectly fine on the ground. 

Therefore, with the majority of your house at Saturday's Hufflepuffs try-outs, you thought it would be an opportune time to take your guitar outside to enjoy the final days of warmth. Making your way out of the castle, you met Luna and Neville, who were genuinely excited to join you for a nature excursion. The three of you strolled along the Stone Circle to the meadow not far from Hagrid’s hut. You laid down the big canary-yellow blanket just steps from the big bushy tree, whose leaves were still not dressed up for the season. It was a bright and sunny day, with few white, fluffy clouds drifting across the sky. Picking up the guitar, you were excited to finally be able to indulge in music, not worrying about non-verbal spells, or potions, or Malfoy. 

Luna and Neville did not have any requests for songs, so you decided to introduce them to some of the finest muggle work, ‘This song’s by a famous British muggle musician, it’s called ‘Perfect’,’ you announced, positioning your fingers at the G chord. 

_A found love, for me Darling just dive right in, follow my lead Well, I found a girl beautiful and sweet I never knew you were the someone waiting for me_

Your fingers glided from string to string, your voice smooth and clear rolled over the meadow following the soft notes of Ed Sheeran’s melody. Luna and Neville fell in soft silence, enthralled by the beautiful ballad. Halfway through the song, from the corner of your eye, you noticed a group of second or third years standing just over a few meters from you. A couple of them were mouthing the words along with you. 

‘... you look perfect tonight.’ you concluded, hitting that G chord one last time. 

The applause erupted which made you blush. You were not used to strangers listening to you, however, back home, you would always play and sing to your family, especially Hannah. When she was just born, you would sit by her bassinet singing lullabies. Hannah was the best audience, she would laugh, throwing her tiny arms up in the air as to reach you. 

‘Can you play any other Ed Sheeran songs?’ one of the girls from the recently approached group asked excitedly, ‘Can I request Photograph? It’s my favorite!’ 

You nodded. Waving your audience closer, you softly started, ‘Loving can hurt … ’ 

Your little concert was promptly becoming a hit, the crowd of about thirty students gathering nearby, many seated on the grass singing along. The likes of the Beatles, Passenger, and Maroon 5 were requested by the audience, all happily performed by you. As electricity did not work within Hogwarts grounds, making it impossible to listen to Spotify or Apple Music, it seemed, your small concert was a rare opportunity for muggle-born and half-blood students to listen to their favorite songs. But after a while, you began to think that you were stuck here until the curfew as the audience was only growing in numbers, and now included Hagrid, who heard the commotion from his hut. 

You watched the sun approaching the horizon, rich hues of red blended with orange, purple, and crimsons stretched far and wide across the sky. With the setting sun, the warmth was all but gone, chilling wind picking up from the lake nearby. Your fingers tired, and now your voice had gotten progressively more hoarse from the sudden drop in temperature, indicating it was time to pack up. To the dismay of the audience, you stood up and thanked everyone for listening, and then started walking back to the castle. 

‘Is it hard?’ asked Neville pointing to the guitar case behind your back, ‘to learn how to play?’ 

‘I don’t think so. As long as you practice. Do you want to learn?’ you said. 

‘I don’t know how good I’ll be…’ Neville answered, fidgeting with the bottom of his cardigan. 

‘I can show you some easy chords you can start with,’ you responded, noticing Neville’s face lighting up with enthusiasm. 

‘I’d love that! Thank you!’ Neville cheered. 

‘Can you teach me too?’ Luna said, who was previously quietly following two of you. 

‘Of course! I'm not sure when I'll have free time next, but we can do a group lesson!’ you were excited to share your passion with your friends. 

As you came into the castle a group of Slytherins including Parkinson and Nott pushed past you laughing, ‘Nice _concert_ , Jones.’ 

Used to the Slytherin mocking, you no longer let it affect you. You had the bigger things to think about - _dinner_. You were starving, and the smell of roast beef made your stomach ache with hunger even more. Unfortunately, before you could join the rest of your house at dinner, you had to stop by your dormitory to drop off your guitar. Waved to Luna and Neville, you hurried towards the dungeons. Approaching the kitchens you saw a young Hufflepuff waiting by the entrance to the Common Room. 

‘I've a message from Professor Slughorn!’ the boy handed over a little violet-ribbon-adorned invitation. 

The parchment contained a handwritten note, inviting you to join your Potions Professor at his office for dinner as a part of the _Slug Club_ gathering. _At least Harry and Hermione are going to be there_ , you hoped. _Dinner_ sounded way more fancy than the jeans and sweater you were currently wearing, therefore you decided to dress up in something more appropriate. The school was one place you thought you could escape the preppy, “fashion-forward” clothes your mother made you wear during your family’s various and excessive outings. To look presentable but yet still casual you decided to layer a long-sleeved white collared blouse and a dark teal knee-length sleeveless wool dress with a square neckline and a seam at the waist. You finished up with some black sheer stockings and round-toe black mary janes, surely going for that straight out of _Clueless_ look you enjoyed wearing back in London. Your hair and face did not take long as you cast a beauty spell to instantly give yourself loose waves and light peachy makeup. 

‘One thing I don’t get about wizards, Jiji, is the way they dress. So medieval times,’ you said, looking at your complete outfit in the mirror. Your cat, in the meanwhile, played with a teaser toy you charmed to swing from side to side. You left Hufflepuff Common Room with an elevated state of mind, not only from how cute you thought you looked but also eager to finally stuff your mouth with whatever Slughorn got ready for the club. 

When you arrived at Slughorn's office, Hermione was pacing in front of the door, hesitating to come in. 

‘Jean! Blimey, I'm so glad you're here! Harry had detention with Snape, I’ve been dreading to go in alone,’ Hermione blurted out, a sigh of relief escaping her chest. 

‘Let’s go in together!’ you cheered. 

Before entering, you softly knocked, making sure you were not interrupting anything by bursting inside. You and Hermione slowly walked in, Professor Slughorn stood up from his seat, his belly bumping into the table, shaking the glasses. 

‘Miss Granger, Miss Jones, welcome, welcome! Please take a seat, we're about to start.’ Luckily you two were able to sit together, unfortunately, due to the table being round, you also had the pleasure of sitting next to Zabini who threw you a contemptuous look the second you sat down. ‘Dear, dear, it's most unfortunate Harry could not make it …’ Slughorn frowned looking at you and Hermione, ‘Well, there's always next time,’ he said, full of hope. 

_What was the most unfortunate is the lack of food_ , you thought. You wished for nothing more but Slughorn to get over Harry’s absence and to serve dinner already, which should have not been a lot to ask for, at a _dinner party_. Trying to distract yourself from the feeling of hunger that grew exponentially with every second, you took a better look at the room you were in. 

Slughorn's office was a fairly large room, the dining area with a big round table you were sitting at was located at the furthest from the door corner; on the opposite side of the room was a fireplace with two large sofas surrounding it. Around the room, on the shelves and side tables, were numerous photographs of the students he taught over the years, alongside other memorabilia the previous members of the _Slug Club_ had left with their professor. 

As if Slughorn had read your mind, his hands connected in a slight clap. The next second the plates of roasted lamb, mashed potatoes, Brussel sprouts, green beans, yams, and various other dishes, you hardly could name them all, appeared right before your joyful eyes. Without hesitation you reached out quickly, filling up your plate. 

‘Before you two beautiful ladies have joined us, we were discussing Cormac’s Uncle Tiberius,’ said Slughorn as if he thought this information was of the essence to the two of you, ‘what about you Miss Granger, what exactly does your family do in the muggle world?’ 

Hermione had trouble swallowing her last bite as she heard Slughorn address her. She put her fork down and quickly glanced at you seeking help. 

‘My parents are dentists… they tend to people’s teeth,’ she finally forced out of herself. 

‘Fascinating,’ cried Slughorn, ‘and is that considered a dangerous profession?’ 

You had to put your hand over your mouth to prevent yourself from laughing. With you and Hermione being the only two people present to have any idea who dentists are, you could not help but find this interaction extremely amusing. 

‘No … although,’ Hermione slightly chuckled, ‘one boy, Robbie Fenwick, did bite my father once, he needed ten stitches.’ 

Looking around the table you saw the complete and utter confusion. This situation truly crossed the line of hilarious into an awkward nightmare. 

'Professor, what do you think about my aunt Gwenog joining us for dinner next time?' you said, attempting to sway the conversation from Hermione, 'I'm sure she would be happy to pay you a visit.' 

Hearing the name of the captain of the Holyhead Harpies, the atmosphere around the table immediately changed. 

'That would be most marvelous!' Slughorn's face lit up with glee. 

'I'll write to her at once!' you said, with a soft smile. 

For a short time after, Slughorn interrogated the two Ravenclaws at the table whose parents held positions at the ministry. As you were almost done with the main course, someone knocked, and the office door opened, Ginny stepped into the room. 

'Ah, Miss Weasley, please join us!' Slughorn waved over, this time, remaining seated. 

'Sorry, I'm not usually late,' Ginny said, taking a seat two chairs from Slughorn. 

'Look at her eyes, they're red,' you whispered to Hermione, worried. 

'They've been arguing again, her and Dean ' Hermione whispered back. 

You felt uneasy. You knew Ginny and Dean Thomas were dating, on more than one occasion you heard Ron cussing over the mention of their relationship. Yet, you also could not dismiss the way Harry looked at Ginny. Unbeknownst to himself, Harry Potter was so hopelessly in love with the red-haired witch, that it truly hurt you physically how no one else seemed to notice it. You were worried and upset for Ginny, but at the same time, you were secretly hoping for her and Dean to break up. 

For the rest of the dinner, Ginny spoke little, much like the rest of the students except for you and Cormac who Slughorn did not intend to leave alone. You were again interrogated about your mother and what she was doing now, as well as being asked about your family's life in Korea and what the wizarding community looked like in Asia. 

'It is very different over there ... the muggle things like fashion, music, cinema and other nonmagic stuff is actively embraced. A lot of wizards use phones, and the internet, even robots!' You began to explain. 

'They really do things differently there! Most fascinating, Jean, most fascinating!' Slughorn addressing you by your first name did not make you too happy, you had no intention of moving up in the Slug Club ranks. 

For Slughorn and the rest of the students, your description of the wizardkind in Asia must have been something out of their interest or maybe even comprehension, as nobody asked what either the internet or robots even were. McLaggen, on the other hand, was bragging about going hunting with Rufus Scrimgeour, before he became the Minister while giving Hermione a look that was making even you feel uncomfortable, let alone Hermione. 'That is so interesting, I don't think people even realize what the other wizard communities are like around the world,' raved Hermione as you were walking back from the dinner party. 

'Like even Quidditch only became popular in Japan in recent years!' she continued. 

You suddenly remembered that although you volunteered to invite your Aunt to the next party, you failed to get the date of the said party. 'I have to go back,' you said, ' I forgot to ask him the details of the party for my aunt, don't wait up!' you finished shouting at the two puzzled Gryffindors, running away in the opposite direction. 

As the three of you made it all the way to the Fat Lady before you realized your overlook, you had to go back down to the sixth floor. Approached the door to Slughorn’s office, you knocked once again before letting yourself in. 

'I'm sorry Professor, I forgot-' you stepped into the room to see Draco and Zabini standing in front of Slughorn. 

'Jean!' Slughorn shouted in surprise, 'did you happen to forget something?' 

‘Yes, sir, I realized that I forgot to ask you about the date for the next gathering … so I can write to my aunt.' Just two meters away from you stood Malfoy and Zabini, and you suddenly became painfully aware of how fast your heart had been beating. You could feel the Slytherins’ gaze on you, your face was getting hot. 

'Ah, of course, of course,' Slughorn said, swirling his large walrus mustache, 'what do you think Blaise, two Saturdays from now would work?' 

Zabini nodded, staying silent, as always. Since lunch at Slughorn’s compartment on the train, you could not remember when was the last time you heard him talk. Maybe the fact that you hated him the least from all of the Slytherin gang was his lack of blabbing. With your neutral opinion about Blaise Zabini, you could not understand your sudden struggle to breathe properly. 

'Two Saturdays from now, understood!' you confirmed, swallowing hard as if something was stuck in your throat, ' I-I apologize for interrupting your conversation, sir.' 

As you attempted to back away to the door, Slughorn suddenly shouted, 'Well, of course! Mr. Malfoy, I think I just found a solution to your desire to improve your potion-making skills.' 

_Oh God, please, no_

'Jean is one of the most talented students I've ever had a pleasure of teaching,’ Slughorn quickly walked over to stand behind you, putting his hands on your shoulders - preventing you from running away, ‘I'm certain, she would love to help you improve.' 

'Sir, I am sure, Mr. Malfoy would not like any help from me,' you protested, your voice quivered. 

'Why would that be, Mr. Malfoy?' Slughorn wondered, looking at Draco in surprise. 

'Thank you professor, but I think I'll be able to manage myself,’ Draco said, you could _hear_ him smirk. 

'Alright then, Miss Jones, I'm excited to hear back from you and Gwenog,' Slughorn shrugged and stepped away, 'you're also free to go, _gentlemen_.' 

For some reason every time you wanted to leave any bloody place, someone was sure to intervene. Not taking your chances with being held up the second time by Slughorn, you hurried out of the room into the corridor, Malfoy, and Zabini walked closely behind you. 

‘Hey, Jones,’ you heard the latter Slytherin’s voice behind you. _You are not turning around, not this time, you will not be held up again_. 

‘C’mon, Jones, no need to be _rude_ ,’ Zabini caught up, now walking beside you. You seemed to have been mistaken about his quiet nature. 

‘Are all Slytherins so _obsessed_ with me?’ you snapped back sardonically, your racing heart betraying your unbothered look on the exterior, ‘Can’t seem to escape you, people.’ 

‘Well, I know a couple who are,’ Zabini said with a smug look, ‘See, Pansy is just jealous because she can barely get Malfoy’s attention here ... other guys don’t even look her way,’ 

‘Shut up, Zabini,’ Draco grumbled, walking beside his housemate. 

‘I'm _immensely_ flattered, really.' you said sarcastically. 'Cut to the chase Zabini. What do you need?’ 

‘You sure are feisty ’ Zabini grinned, ‘I merely want to extend you an invitation to Slytherin tryouts tomorrow morning.’ 

‘Why would _I_ _ever_ go to that?’ to say you were baffled was an understatement. Either, Zabini and Malfoy were playing a prank on you, or you were transported into the 'upsidedown' where things did not make sense anymore. 

‘Don’t worry, with Professor Snape present, Pansy won’t dare to touch you-’ 

‘I'm not scared of Parkinson,’ you blurred out cutting Zabini off mid-sentence, ‘and if you or anyone else think otherwise, I'll be happy to prove you wrong.’ 

‘She has no business coming, try-outs are for Slytherins only,’ Malfoy chimed in rudely. 

‘Don’t be jealous, Draco, you know Joon wanted to see her.’ Hearing that name roll off Zabini’s tongue made your heart beat faster, your cheeks felt warm. You were surprised you had yet to bump into the guy you had been mildly crushing for the past three years. 

‘I'll think about it.’ While having this “pleasant” chat with Zabini, you made it to the dungeons, and you could finally escape the company of the two Slytherins, dashing for the entrance to the Hufflepuff's Common Room. 

‘I could see what they see in her,’ Zabini smirked, ‘if she wasn’t in that _pathetic_ House, I would have been interested.’ 

‘Shut up, Blaise.’ scoffed Malfoy, disappearing behind the concealed entrance to the Slytherin Common Room.


	5. The Seeker

The next morning you were faced with the hardest decision of your life so far - to go or not to go to the Slytherin tryouts. On one hand, you were delighted with an opportunity to see Joon, but on the other, you were anxious about how it would look. You, a Hufflepuff prefect, an upstanding student were going to a Slytherin gathering. Slytherin House had a certain image, you knew, everyone knew that - it was not a group of people associated with friendship and rightfulness. Slytherins’ cunning and ambition - using any means to achieve their goals - stood directly opposite to the loyalty, hard work, and fairness Hufflepuff students were to uphold. You and Joon, on paper and reality, were complete opposites - he wanted to follow his father’s steps and become a Ministry Official, you, however, wanted nothing to do with the Ministry or the boring office jobs it represented. When you were to imagine your future, you thought of helping others, often thinking of even pursuing a muggle profession where you could work with those in need - a counselor, or a social worker, maybe. 

Indecisiveness that to someone can seem silly, was not from the butterflies in your stomach or your heart beating erratically in your chest from the thoughts of Joon, but from the fear that entering a world that was so different from yours would change who you were as a person.

As you were pacing around your room, picking things up and putting them back at the exact places as an attempt at ‘organizing’, Mina was sitting on the floor of your bedroom going through the package of goods delivered this morning by your family’s owl. The chaos she was creating by emptying the content of the box directly onto the floor was making you fidget even more. 

‘I don’t know why you're making such a big deal out of this,’ she complained. 

‘How can you say that? Imagine me going to Slytherin tryouts, I didn't even go to my own House tryouts! And I am a prefect! People will talk!' you protested, trying to convince yourself more than anyone else. 

Mina shot you an annoyed look. ‘Prefect, shmefect,’ she mumbled to herself, ‘You're such a goody-goody it’s disgusting. Live your life a little.’ 

You saw nothing wrong with being good. _Good is that which all things aim_. Not like you unconditionally followed every rule and never stepped out of line, like a certain Gryffindor you knew. But if there was a choice between doing the good, right thing, you would always choose to do it. Sometimes you just had to do the right thing even if it is not what you wanted. You had a reputation to uphold, you could not just go and ruin everything you worked so hard for. Being good was who you were, if you did not have that, you would not have anything. 

‘What did she send?' you said, trying to change the topic. 

‘There's a lot in here, actually: snacks, at least three boxes of jigsaw puzzles, cat toys, books, whatever this is,’ Mina pulled out a device you recognize to be a jade face roller, ‘Bloody hell, Jean! There are at least _fifty_ sheet masks in here, the woman's crazy! Is this considered contraband?’ 

You chuckled, your mother sure did not take mailing packages lightly. At home, she gave you and Mina full autonomy in packing to school, but once you two _got_ to school, she sent all the things _she thought_ you forgot to pack. 

‘Anything else in that Pandora’s box?’ you asked. 

‘You know, regular mom stuff - makeup, clothes, _hair accessories_...where does she think we're going to wear this?’ Mina kept ranting about the content of the package, ‘There's a letter for each of us and some photos too.’ 

Photos were something you were interested in seeing, unlike most of the box's content. The majority of pictures were of Hannah, and Evie, or Hannah and Evie together. There was one from last Christmas of all six of you, including your father holding little Hannah, dressed in an elf costume, she was waving at the camera. There was also a photo that featured Ian making a displeased face, you liked that one as you thought it perfectly captured the _essence_ of his character. After looking through the pictures, you finally opened the letter addressed to you. 

_Dear, Jeanie._

_I hope you are healthy and well. You must be busy these days. I remember struggling with four N.E.W.T. level classes, I cannot imagine how you are managing taking seven! I have received an owl from my old Professor H.E.F. Slughorn who raved about how talented and gifted you are! I am so proud! I hope the lessons I gave you over the summer helped. Potions can be tricky even with the right instructions. How is Professor Snape treating you? I heard he has taken over Defence Against the Dark Arts, he must be beaming with glee. It had been Severus’ dream even before I knew him at Hogwarts. Pass him my greetings, and tell him I said to stop being a dick to students. Your father is doing good. He promised to write to both of you soon. Write more often, Hannah, Ian, Evie, and I all miss you dearly. Eat well, stay healthy, and most important of all, have some fun! Love you more than words can describe._

_Sincerely yours, Mom_

‘Mom is a softie,’ Mina looked up, her eyes slightly wet. 

‘Yeah, _mom_ is.’ you chuckled, trying to wipe your own tears, ‘So, what do you think the dress code for Slytherin tryouts is?’ 

‘You're going?’ Mina exclaimed loudly, ‘Well, you can’t wear your robes, way to show people "I don’t belong here"!’ 

She was right, you could not show up in Hufflepuff robes to the crowd of Slytherins like gazelle surrounded by a pack of hyenas. Thinking about what to wear you grabbed the same outfit you wore last night. 

‘Are you insane? Zabini and Draco saw you in that. You can’t just wear the same outfit two days in a row, that’s _embarrassing_.' Mina rolled her eyes as she noticed you laying out the clothes on the bed. 

'I don’t think either of them would recall that, but okay, fashion expert, what _should_ I wear?' 

Mina stood up to look at your wardrobe. She went through your clothes one by one, dismissing the unsuitable ones with a sharp _No_. Finally, she stopped, pulling out a black turtleneck sweater and a pair of black jeans. 

'We truly reached the height of fashion here, _incredible_ work!’' you said sarcastically, dramatically clapping. 

' _Ha. Ha. Ha._. Have you seen anyone from Slytherin? It is boring, yeah, but you have to blend in, they don’t _exactly_ experiment with color in that House,' Mina said, nudging you to change. 

Followed Mina’s orders, you were already regretting listening to your mother’s advice to ‘have fun’. Your stomach shifted uneasily, and you were trying to come up with more reasons not to go. To be more alive, you had to be less afraid, and right now, you were awfully afraid. 

‘You can do it, go live your life, oldie!’ Mina practically pushed you out of the door. 

The wind blew through the Hogwarts grounds with a powerful passion, picking up the early fallen leaves and scattering them over the stone paths and grass plains. As you approached you saw The Quidditch Pitch stands were decorated in green and silver, to commemorate the Slytherin tryouts. Other than the Hufflepuff House games and the finals, you had only been at the Pitch twice - once in your first year, to cheer Harry in his debut match, and the second time, in your second year, to cheer Harry in his match against Slytherin with Malfoy as a seeker - this time, however, neither Hufflepuff nor Harry were playing. The groups of Slytherins were pushing past you to climb the stairs to the bleachers, as you stood at the bottom regretting your life choices. You were definitely out of your comfort zone, you were neither good at Quidditch nor at meeting new people. After a couple of failed attempts to go up, you argued with yourself that, _It is too late to back out now_ , and hesitantly walked up the stairs. 

Making it to the top, you could see the Slytherin Quidditch team, and those wishing to join it still on the ground in the middle of the Pitch. The others, who came to watch and cheer were seated on the wooden benches in the spectator box. There were about fifty people scattered around the seats, with distinctive groups forming little social clusters. With every passing second, anxiety grew inside your chest. 

‘Ew, why is _she_ here?’ you could hear Parkinson’s annoying voice, although you could not see her. The loud chatter quieted down, people looked to see who she was referring to. 

'Ah, Jean!' The tall, dark-haired Slytherin stood up, towering over the rest of the crowd. He navigated down the row of benches towards you, approaching you with a smile. 

‘Hey,’ you said, flustered. 

'Ignore Parkinson, come this way,' he proceeded to wrap his arm around your small frame, leading you over to the back of the box. The height difference between the two of you made it seem as if he was using you as an armrest. 

‘Told you she was going to come, Joon’ said Zabini, smirking when you finally reached your seats. 

‘I was worried you weren’t going to show up,’ the tall Slytherin turned his body to face you. 

‘I came because I wanted to see you,’ you said, immediately regretting your phrasing, ‘I-I mean, I-I was wondering where you have been.’ Your attempt at recovery did not seem to work as you could see a sly smile crept onto Joon’s face. 

‘I had to attend some business with my father back in Korea, I got back yesterday,’ he explained. 'I also happened to meet Mr. Jung.' 

You expected your father’s name to come up as soon as you heard Joon talking about his dad. Both of them worked closely together for as long as you could remember. Even as kids, you and Joon saw each other fairly often at the various ministry receptions and other events. Being a year older than you, Joon for a long time was like an older brother you never had. However, the older you got, the more the feelings you experienced for Joon were quickly turning into something more. 

‘He's doing good, by the way,’ Joon continued, his mouth stretching into a grin, ‘He also asked me _to keep an eye on you_ ,’ on the last part, the Slytherin leaned in so close to your ear, you could feel his breath on your skin. Blush seared through your cheeks so fiercely you thought your face caught on fire. You suddenly felt embarrassed and coy. Joon leaned back, laughing. 

As you were sitting there, hoping for the earth to open up and swallow you whole, the Slytherin tryouts began with a loud whistle. Seekers went first. Malfoy had to defend his position on the team against the other three Slytherins eager to replace him. The goal was simple enough - whoever was able to catch the Snitch got the position. You watched the captain release the Golden Snitch, Malfoy’s broom quickly shot up, three potential candidates already behind. As the tryouts for Seekers were underway, the candidates for Beaters and Keepers were getting ready in the meanwhile. As you never attended try-outs before, you would have been quite interested in the whole ordeal if you were not so embarrassed to exist. 

‘I-I think I can take care of myself, you don’t have to look after me,’ you said quickly, locking eyes with Joon before averting your gaze. 

‘I know I don’t have to,’ The dark-haired Slytherin took your hand in his, and placed a soft kiss on your knuckles, ‘I _want_ to.’ 

You could swear you could just die on the spot, the heat in your cheek grew intensely, now surely, turning your face beet red. You could feel your pulse pounding in your temples, you were trying to remember how to breathe. You wanted to say something but the strong current of wind blew over your head as Draco zoomed past the box at lighting speed, the rest of the Slytherins cheered. Parkinson screeched with glee as Malfoy, from what it seemed, was closing in on a Snitch. 

‘He found it so fast?’ you said, amazed. 

Joon was not happy with Malfoy stealing the show, he huffed, clearing his throat, ‘Draco is pretty good, isn’t he?’ 

‘Yeah…’ you said, gazing up with awe, ‘He is so fast ...’ 

You hated to admit it, but Malfoy seemed about ten times more impressive than the Hufflepuff seeker who failed to catch the Snitch _once_ last year. Not only were you impressed by how fast he was able to locate the golden ball, but also how effortlessly he maneuvered the broom in the air. All of a sudden, you, despite the complete disabling lack of talent at flying, imagined being a seeker yourself. You seemed to forget about your fear of heights altogether as the plans of trying out for the Hufflepuff team were popping up in your head. You were dragged back to reality as a rapid round of applause and cheering erupted in the box, you looked up, _Malfoy_ got the snitch. You found yourself enthusiastically clapping in unison with the crowd. 

After all the positions on the Slytherin team were picked out and set in stone, the Slytherins on the bleachers quickly crowded up the stairs, exiting the Quidditch Pitch. The walk back to the castle was more awkward than you could foresee, Joon yet again wrapped his arm around your shoulder, and tightly pressing you against himself, practically dragged you along while chatting with others about classes he had missed. You did not talk, just nodded if Joon looked at you for approval. 

You were finally let go when the group made it to the fountain courtyard. Happy to spend time with him, you were still already exhausted from today and it was only noon. Thus, although Joon invited you to join him and others at the Three Broomsticks, you politely declined, listing homework and prefect duty as excuses. 

‘It’s a shame,’ Joon touched his hand to the side of your face, tugging a strain of hair behind your ear. A shiver ran down your back as he leaned down to kiss you on a cheek, softly whispering, ‘I hope from now on, we'll see each other more often.’ 

Your face radiated heat like a frying pan, you surely could cook a meal on it with how hot it felt. You were still standing frozen, embarrassed, and coy when Joon shot you a wink and walked away to join Zabini and the two other seven-years waiting at the entrance of a corridor. You made sure the Slytherin group disappeared from your line of sight before you walked off, hiding in the corner of the courtyard behind a pillar of the interlacing arches framing the perimeter. You, a perfectly rational and collected person, acted like a crumbling mess. And all it took was a boy to softly breathe on your ear, ‘I am so pathetic,’ you whispered under your breath. 

‘Don’t be _too_ hard on yourself,’ a sharp voice cut through your internal monologue. You turned around, knowing, without a trace of doubt who it belonged to. 

‘Did you guys put a GPS on me or something?’ you grumbled. 

‘A what?’ Draco asked, confused. 

‘It is a muggle location tracking thing- forget about it… What are you doing here?’ you asked, looking around to make sure no one else was following you. 

‘Someone found this in the spectator’s box, I thought it was yours,’ the Slytherin reached into the pocket of his blazer and took out a small white handkerchief with a strawberry pattern and pink lace at the edges. Of course, it was yours, whose else’s could it be. 

‘Thank you,’ you mumbled, ‘You didn’t have to go out of your way to give it back.’ 

‘I didn’t, this is the way back to the dungeons,’ Malfoy replied coldly, placing the piece of fabric into your extended hands. 

You felt stupid and flustered, again. The burning desire to smack yourself overcame you. 

‘I saw you fly, I have to admit you're pretty good,’ you said, trying not to sound too impressed, your face still rosy, whether from the cold or embarrassment. 

‘ _Pretty good_?’ Malfoy grumbled. 

‘Okay, fine, you did great.’ you corrected yourself. 

‘Thank you, Jones. Means a lot coming from _you_ ,’ Draco smirked. 

‘What is that supposed to mean?’ you asked, slightly agitated. 

‘When you receive a compliment from a person who hates you, it means it’s truly earned,’ Draco walked over, passing where you were standing. 

_Hate_. Such a powerful word. When you truly hate someone, it spreads throughout your entire body, shutting down any other feelings, coloring your soul. Your soul, however, was untainted. Sure, you hated the actions of his past, you hated how smug and arrogant he looked every time you saw him, you hated how his demeanor changed surrounded by that _gang_ of his, but you also hated that despite all of that, you did not _hate_ Draco Malfoy. 

‘I-I don’t hate you- well, it’s complicated-’ you looked away trying to formulate your thoughts, ‘I don’t hate _you_ , I hate what you did.’ 

Draco was still standing with his back facing you, you did not see if he was disappointed or relieved. 

‘I don’t hate you too, Jones,’ he said before walking away. 

You felt as if the heat returned to your face, quickly putting your cold fingers to your cheeks. The world was going crazy, you were going crazy. You had never been so taken by your emotions, even considering your last year’s outburst on Malfoy. 

Determined that enough things had happened this weekend, you decided to seek quiet by spending the rest of the afternoon working on one of the jigsaw puzzles your mother had sent you. Successfully making it to your room without bumping into anyone, you collapsed onto your bed. Although you were done with today, it seemed it was not done with you. After just a couple of minutes of serene relaxation, you heard a knock on your door. 

‘Come in,’ you shouted, standing up. 

The door opened, a crying first-year burst into your room. A girl sobbed right into her hands, the tears dripping between her fingers. 

‘Oh dear, what is wrong, Emily, right?’ you ran up to the girl, giving her a light hug. 

‘I-I-I am s-s-sorry, I-I-I d-d-didn’t know who t-t-to t-t-talk to,’ her trembling voice was breaking your heart. 

‘It is okay, I'm here, I'm here,’ you said, rubbing her back in slow circular motion. Before interrogating the poor soul, you sat her down on your bed. 

‘I can’t figure out my Defense Against the Dark Arts homework, Professor Snape is going to kill me t-tomorrow,’ before she could even finish the sentence, a raw cry erupted from her chest. 

Noone could disagree on the fact that Snape was a dick, plain and simple. Not only was he unreasonable in his expectations even to you, but he enjoyed belittling and mocking his students. Snape’s bat-like appearance infused fear in so many of the first-years, you developed an entire system for how to help those terrorized by the Head of Slytherin House. 

‘I know, Professor Snape can be very scary, but you can’t let him scare you. You can be the most talented witch in the world, and he'll still find something to critique about you. He's a bitter miserable person, who made it his job to spread that misery onto everyone and everything,’ you said, putting your hands on the first-year’s shoulders. 

‘Everyone says that he doesn’t treat you like others… how did you do that?’ whipping her tears away, Emily looked up at you. 

That was a question you did not have an answer to. Throughout the years you had multiple theories regarding why Snape took a liking to you. At first, you thought that perhaps your talents in Potion-making earned you his approval, but his contempt for Hermione, who was just as good as you, if not better, proved that theory wrong. For some time, you explored a fundamentally different idea that maybe Snape thought you were challenged and took pity on you. The more recent theory, however, determined that it had something to do with your mother. Her and Snape were never really friends, at least as far as you knew, but she always spoke kindly of him whenever his name came up in a conversation. She also spoke about his troubles with a group of Gryffindors, and how unfair they treated Snape. Your mother was a saint who only saw good in people, no surprise, even the cold-hearted, resentful Snape must have liked her. But that is something you could not tell the poor first-year who does not have your mother’s angelic nature to rely on. 

‘My first year, if he critiqued me on anything, I would stay after class and ask him how I could improve, no matter how ridiculous his comments were. I didn’t let him intimidate me,’ you explained confidently, ‘and in the chance he did, I told Professor Sprout,’ you giggled, winking at Emily. 

Your little motivational speech must have worked because by the time the first-year left your room she was smiling and looked determined. Your prefect heart could not be more proud.


	6. Opal Necklace

Over the next few weeks, to avoid being dragged to the Slytherins by Joon, you spent almost every meal in the Great Hall at the Gryffindor’s table with Harry, Hermione, and Ron. Sitting back with the Hufflepuffs left you too vulnerable to kidnapping, and you absolutely refused to eat at the same table as Parkinson no matter how much you liked Joon. Your friends were happy to have you, catching you up on their visit to Hagrid, and the Gryffindor tryouts. Hagrid, who initially was angry and upset with them, in the end, despite his disappointment, understood their reasons not to continue Care of Magical Creatures. In regards to tryouts, you heard about McLaggen's failure to make the team from Hermione who enthusiastically whispered the entire story to you during one of the Slug Club dinners.

At the end of October came your first trip of the term to Hogsmeade. The morning of the trip was proving to be stormy, the heavy clouds almost completely covered up the sun, wrapping the ground with shadows. You sat down for breakfast next to Hermione when Harry and Ron finally strolled into the Great Hall. The red-haired wizard lost no time in regaling the two of you with the story of a new spell Harry read in the Half-Blood Prince’s _Advanced Potion-Making_. 

‘... and then there was another flash of light and I landed on the bed again!’ grinned Ron, helping himself to sausages. 

You found this anecdote amusing, smiling as Ron was retelling the events of this morning. Hermione, however, had not cracked a smile listening to it, and now turned an expression of wintry disapproval upon Harry. The fact that this spell came from _that book_ earned Harry a stern scolding on the danger of unknown, handwritten, not Ministry Magic-approved incantations. Hermione found that Prince’s character dodgy and untrustworthy, therefore making the textbook unsafe in her eyes. She reminded the three of you the use of similar spells to make people float in the air, asleep, helpless during the Quidditch World Cup by the Death Eaters. Although the you-know-who had been defeated, some of his sympathizers and followers were still at large, terrorizing those they deemed _unworthy_. Both Harry and Ron attempted to explain to Hermione that it was just for a laugh and since no one got hurt, she has been overreacting over nothing. They, of course, failed to convince Hermione that Prince’s copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_ was harmless and by the end of the breakfast, everyone's opinions about the Prince himself and his book remained unchanged. 

The walk into Hogsmeade was not pleasant. There was no trace of the sunny warm weather you enjoyed outside just a couple of weeks before. You wrapped your House colored scarf almost over your entire face, leaving just your eyes above the wool fabric. Unlike you, who wore both a hat and gloves, poor Harry’s exposed ears and hands soon looked both raw and numb. The road to the village was full of students bent double against the bitter wind. When you finally reached Hogsmeade, you saw Zonko’s Joke Shop boarded up, which forced disappointed grumble out of four of you. Honeydukes was open, so you staggered into the crowded shop. 

‘Thank Merlin,’ shivered Ron as you were enveloped by warm, toffee-scented air. ‘Let’s say here all afternoon.’ 

‘I'm okay with that,’ you said rubbing your gloved hands together, despite being covered they managed to be numb. 

‘Harry, m’boi!’ said a booming voice from behind you. 

You chuckled, knowing how hard Harry had tried to avoid meetings with Slughorn, it was the most ironic professor had found him in here. As Harry had missed three of the Slug Club meetings, the Potion master had not been happy. Harry was smart, he had been scheduling Quidditch practices every time Slughorn had sent him a little violet-ribbon-adorned invitation, leaving you and Hermione to fend for yourselves. As the next Slug Club dinner would have fallen on the _regularly_ scheduled practice and the other date proposed by the determined Slughorn fell on another event Harry could not possibly miss, the disappointed professor informed Harry that he could not evade him forever and waddled out of the shop, taking as little notice of Ron as though he had been a display of Cockroach Cluster. 

‘They’re not that bad, you know, Hermione and I don’t mind them that much n...’ you said, shrugging. 

‘Yeah, they’re even quite fun sometimes…’ Hermione continued, but then she caught sight of Ron’s expression and quickly drew everyone’s attention to one of the candy displays. 

Honeydukes was by far your favorite place to visit in Hogsmeade; surrounded by the fruit jellies, the sour candies, licorice of all sorts, the chocolates, you were having a hard time not spending all of your money there. To you, Honeydukes was the happiest place on earth, but apparently not to Ron who looked moody and merely shrugged when Hermione asked him where he wanted to go next. 

Your next destination was the Three Broomsticks. Bundled your scarves back over your faces the four of you left the sweet shop to brave the bitter wind that cut like knives on any skins left exposed. The street was not very busy, nobody was lingering to chat, just escaping the weather outside towards their destination. 

While inside, you sent Harry, Ron, and Hermione to get a table as you went to get drinks. Unsurprisingly the pub was crowded so pushing your way to the bar was a challenging task. Madam Rosmerta met you with a warm smile and got four glasses of Butterbeer almost instantly. Offering to bring drinks to your friends, you did not take into account that you only had two hands, and there were four of you, even without the mathematics class at Hogwarts that was not a hard equation to figure out. Just as you wanted to ask Madam Rosmerta for help bringing the drinks to your table, she disappeared from your sight, likely to get more Firewhisky from the back. The two warlocks sitting at the bar close by were grinning at your helpless attempts to grab all four drinks. 

‘Let me help you,’ Ginny appeared right in front of you, reaching out to grab the two glasses from you. 

‘I’ll get us a table,’ Dean who you only now noticed kissed the red-haired witch and walked away through the crowd towards the back of the room. 

The brightest smile graced Harry’s face when he saw you and Ginny approach the table together. 

‘Hey, are you going to join us?’ asked Harry, visibly perked up. 

‘I’m here with Dean - might see you later,’ she replied, waving at you as she walked off. 

Harry’s disappointing expression could not be more obvious, you and Hermione looked at each other feeling both bad for Harry and amused at Ron who was still oblivious to what was going on. 

‘Slughorn somehow convinced Jean to play some piano at the next Slug Club dinner, by the way,’ Hermione once again was in charge of changing the topic to ease the atmosphere. 

Harry and Ron sharply turned to look at you with a chilling synchronization. 

‘Well, I made a mistake of mentioning I went to a music school and there was no stopping him …’ you pressed your lips into a forced smile, ‘I don't know what to play, to be honest, but also I'm more interested how he's going to get a piano in that office...’ 

‘I’m sure anything you play would be lovely,’ Harry encouraged. 

The next couple of minutes were spent in silence, Hermione drummed her fingers on the table, her eyes flickering between Ron and the bar; Harry and Ron were sipping their drinks; you gazed around observing people around the pub. 

The view from where you were sitting was not great and being the shortest at the table did not help in your snooping. In the spaces in between people, you could see the table Ginny and Dean were sitting, both in dignified silence. Then your sight fell on the table tucked in the furthest corner of the Three Broomsticks, where you could see Joon chatting with the other two seven-year Slytherins whose names you could not recall. It was Joon’s demeanor that made you feel uneasy, his face was tense and every time he spoke, the look of self-satisfaction on his face would accompany a mischievous smile. Your stomach dropped, although you could not hear what they talked about, you could _feel_ it was nothing good. 

The moment Hermione drained the last drops of her glass, she suggested calling it a day and going back to school, a proposal everyone gladly agreed to. The weather was getting worse the longer you stayed and waiting would guarantee an even more miserable trip back to the castle. Once again bundled up in a scarf and a hat, and pulled your gloves on, you walked after the rest out of the pub and back up the High Street. The four of you ended up following Katie Bell and her friend who were loudly arguing about something Katie was holding in her hand. 

“It’s nothing to do with you, Leanne!’ you heard Katie say. 

You rounded a corner in the lane, a gust of wind blew almost knocking you off your feet and making you shut your eyes. When the wind subsided and you were able to see again, Leanne made to grab the package Katie was holding, Katie tugged it back and the package fell to the ground. 

At once, Katie rose into the air, her arms outstretched, as though she was about to fly. Her hair was shipped around her by the force of the wind, but her eyes were closed and her face was quite empty of expression. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Leanne, and you had all halted in your tracks, watching in panic. Then, six feet above the ground, Katie let out a terrible scream. Her eyes flew open but whatever she could see, or whatever she was feeling, was clearly causing her terrible pain and anguish. She screamed and screamed; Leanne started to scream too, she grabbed Katie's ankles, trying to pull her back to the ground. The four of you ran forwards to help, but even after managed to pull her down, she collapsed on top of you, her body writhing so much you could hardly hold her. Instead, you lowered her to the ground where she thrashed and screamed, not recognizing any of you. 

‘Stay there!’ Harry shouted over the howling wind, ‘I’m going for help!’ 

He began to sprint towards the school, as Ron, Hermione, and you were left behind trying to quieten Katie who was still twitching and screaming on the ground. Her condition did not improve even when Harry came back bringing Hagrid. The half-giant ordered everyone to get back, and when everyone obliged, he bent down and scooped her into his arms, running off towards the castle with her. 

Everyone froze, the horror of what just happened did not fully settle in but no one dared to move. It was Harry who was the first to speak, pointing to the now sodden brown-paper package on the ground, which had split open to reveal a greenish glitter. Ron bent down, his hand outstretched, but you quickly seized his arm and pulled him back. 

‘ _Don’t touch it_!’ 

Harry crouched down to take a better look at the ornate opal necklace that was poking out of the paper, ‘I’ve seen that before,’ he said, staring at the thing. ‘It was on display in Borgin and Burkes ages ago. The label said it was cursed…’ He looked up at Leanne, who was shaking uncontrollably. ‘How did Katie get hold of this?’ 

“That’s why we were arguing. She came back from the bathroom in the Three Broomsticks holding it, said it was a surprise for somebody at Hogwarts and she had to deliver it. She looked all funny when she said it… oh no, oh no, I bet she’d been Imperiused, and I didn’t even realize!’ Leanne was shaking with renewed sobs, Hermione patted her shoulder gently. 

You had to make it back to school, to see how Katie was doing and to bring the necklace to get it examined. Hermione, her arm still around Leanne, led her up the road, towards the castle. Harry quickly pulled his scarf from around his face and carefully covered the necklace in it, picking it up. 

When you approached the Entrance Hall, Professor McGonagall was hurrying down the stone steps to meet you. The five of you followed her upstairs into her office. Still-sobbing Leanne haltingly, and with many pauses to control her crying, told Professor McGonagall how Katie got hold of the package in the bathroom of the Three Broomsticks, and how Katie had seemed a little odd, and how she touched the necklace when the package tore open during Leanne’s attempts to take it from her. Professor McGonagall listened to the recollection of events and then sent Leanne to the hospital wing to get something for the shock. 

Then it was your group's turn to tell the Head of Gryffindor what exactly happened when Katie touched the necklace, how her body rose in the air, she began to scream, and her body kept writhing after she collapsed on the ground. The four of you tried to provide as much detail as you could remember in hopes to give the professor any clues to what had happened. 

‘I need to bring this necklace to Professor Snape at once, and then go up to the hospital wing to check on Katie Bell. You should also go see Madam Pomfrey. Good day to you all.’ She held open her office door as you slowly exited one by one. 

The walk down from Mcgonagall’s office was spent in silence, your hands slightly shaking as your mind went back to Katie’s body suspended in the air. It was nothing you had ever seen before, the image of her body twisting, and her face twitching in terrible agony, was now embedded in your memory. Your internal turmoil had not gone unnoticed, you felt Harry reach to grab your hand, squeezing it for comfort. 

‘Who would do something so …’ you paused to collect your thoughts, ‘so _evil_.’ Although you did not want to admit or show it, you were on the verge of tears, forcing your eyes shut to stop yourself from crying. 

‘Why would anyone want to bring a cursed object into school, and who was their intended victim?’ Hermione continued. 

Harry threw some accusations at Nott whose parents in the past, and perhaps even present, were known Death Eaters and even mentioned the likes of Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle. 

‘It wasn’t a very slick attack, really, when you stop and think about it,’ said Ron, ‘so Crabbe and Goyle seem the most probable, those two are not what you would call the world’s greatest thinkers.’ 

Ron chuckled from his own joke, making the other three of you smile in response.

It was time to retire to your corresponding dormitories. You waved to your friends and walked off towards the dungeons. You hastily crossed Hufflepuff Common Room to avoid speaking to anyone, the lack of fear or speculations among the students indicated the news of Katie's fate had not yet spread. It gave you an opportunity to lock yourself up in your room and pretend you were not just scared for the rest of your life.


	7. Fear

Sleep had always served as a sweet release from the worries of your life, last night, however, the relief of unconsciousness never came. Every time you shut your eyes desperately trying to fall asleep, you were instantly jerked awake by the image of Katie's writhing body suspended in the air, her soul-wrenching scream echoing in your ears. Ultimately, you gave up on sleeping all together to keep the little bit of the sanity that was still left. For you, not sleeping for multiple days in a row was not uncommon during the school year, often having to use the Wideye potion to pull off long nights studying for exams and OWLs. Today, however, you felt as if you have not slept for weeks, not just your body but also your mind was askew.

The sun had yet to appear from behind the horizon when you entered the hospital wing to check on Katie only to find out that she had been removed to Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. By the time you made it to breakfast, the Great Hall was mostly empty with only a few students scattered around the tables. Sitting at the Hufflepuff table, you were dragging your spoon across and around a bowl of porridge, not being able to bring yourself to take a bite out of anything. As you heard the cheery voices and loud footsteps of students filling up the Great Hall you snapped out of your daze and wishing to avoid speaking to anyone, stood up, and hurried against the current of students, towards the exit. Classes did not start until nine, meaning you had two hours to wander around the castle. The only place you were certain nobody could bother you at this hour was the library where you lazily headed to. 

The bell for the first period rang, and attempting to go through the day as nothing had happened you proceeded to Ancient Runes. While Hermione was thoroughly writing down every piece of information escaping Professor Babbling's mouth, you spent most of the class spacing out, barely making any effort in taking notes. If Professor Babbling did not particularly care if you were paying attention in her class, Snape was not forgiving whatsoever. The second you sat down in the gloomy dark classroom, this time next to Neville, you were forced back up to your feet to carry a demonstration for the rest of the class. And although your mind was wide awake, your body was betraying you with slow reactions and rigidness. 

'Whatever it's you were up to last night, Jones, does not give you an excuse to slack off in my class.' Snape said coldly after you barely deflected the fifth hex he cast at you. 

'You're right, sir. Perhaps someone else would be a better fit for the demonstration,' you said, blankly staring back at Snape. 

'Go back to your seat,' were the last words Snape addressed to you for the remainder of the class. 

'Jean, are you feeling okay? You look… _not good_ ,' Ron said carefully as you walked out to the corridor. 

'Yeah, just tired, don’t worry. Sorry, gotta go.' you replied getting ahead of your friends to make it to your next period. 

Care of Magical Creatures went significantly better than DADA, primarily due to Hagrid not being a massive dick. You were able to forget about your worries while you were tending to a Fwooper and her colorful patterned eggs. However, when the lunch period came about, the feeling of anxiety and encompassing dread hit you like a high tide. You wanted to go back to your room but the idea of being alone with your thoughts made you shake uncontrollably. You were scared, you did not understand what was happening to you - breathing became difficult, the sense of overwhelming worry would not go away, leaving your chest feeling heavy and compressed. The hospital wing was your salvation. When you made it through the door you were surprised to see Madam Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore chatting in the middle of the room. 

'I'm sorry to interrupt-' you said coming closer. 

'Ah, Miss Jones, We're just talking about Katie. I believe you witnessed the accident yesterday?' Dumbledore said. 

'Yes, sir. How is she?' 

'Still very unwell, although she was relatively lucky. She appears to have brushed the necklace with the smallest possible amount of skin: there was a tiny hole in her glove. Had she put it on, had she even held it in her ungloved hand, she would have died, perhaps instantly. Luckily Professor Snape was able to do enough to prevent a rapid spread of the curse.' 

Dumbledore's face did not seem as horrified as you felt. You were glad Snape's excessive knowledge of the Dark Arts was able to prevent any further damage to poor Katie. _But was she going to recover? Was she going to be the same?_

'However,' continued Dumbledore, interrupting your frantic thoughts, 'I want to ask how _you_ are doing, Miss Jones? Professor Snape voiced his worries about your well-being.' 

Snape was not wrong to assume you were not well, because you certainly were not. It felt as if the time itself had stopped, the compression you were feeling on your chest tightened, your breathes were heavier and harder to take, the tremble in your hands persisted with intensifying force. 

'I-I can't stop thinking about it, Professor,' you said looking down at your shaking hands, 'I keep hearing Katie scream, Sh-she was suffering, and I did nothing to help, I could do nothing…' 

'Oh sweetie,' Madam Pomfrey walked over to wrap her arm around you, and sat you on one of the beds, 'drink this.' She walked to the shelves nearby and took out a bottle of what you assumed was the Calming Draught. 

‘If you weren’t there to get help, Katie would've not been here with us. Sometimes, all we can do is get help.’ Dumbledore walked over to take a seat next to you, his silver robes falling gracefully onto the bed. You nodded slightly, taking small sips of the potion. 

‘Can I ask you something Professor?’ you spoke quietly, your head still down. 

Dumbledore did not respond, you took the silence as an answer itself. After a pause, you finally forced out, ‘Is it okay to be afraid?’ 

‘There is no shame in fear, Miss Jones,' Dumbledore paused, 'what matters, however, is how we face it.’ The response left you with more doubts and questions than you originally had. 

As you finished the Calming Draught, the Headmaster stood up, ‘I shall be sending Professor Slughorn an owl informing of your absence in the afternoon’s class, I believe Madam Pomfrey thinks it’s best for you to rest.’ 

Before you could protest, Dumbledore reached into his pocket, pulled out a sugar Quill, handed it to you, and promptly left the hospital wing. Now alone with you, Madam Pomfrey hurried with a Sleeping Draught. No matter how much you protested, she insisted that you had to use the time you gained from missing Potions to catch up on the missed sleep, and she was to wake you at dinner time. It did not take long after taking the dark purple colored potion before your head hit the pillow and you drifted away into the blissful oblivion. 

Madam Pomfrey _clearly_ forgot about you because when you finally came to it was half-past six with nobody in sight in the ward. It took you a while before you finally realized where you were, and even longer before you made yourself get up and leave. 

‘Where the hell were you, we were worried’ Hermione burst out as you sat next to her, finally making it to the Great Hall. 

‘I was sleeping,’ you said reaching out for chicken wings, you were awfully hungry. 

‘What do you mean, you were _sleeping_?’ Hermione's chest puffed up. Fearing her scolding you told them what happened. 

'Are you feeling better now?' said Harry, looking particularly concerned. 

'I'll be fine I promise. Did I miss anything in Potions?' you asked, shifting the conversation from yourself. 

'Nothing much, Slughorn was raving about Harry, as always.' Ron did not seem too pleased with his friend's success. You knew he was bitter about the whole Slug Club situation as he was the only one from the four of you not invited to Slughorn's favorites club. 

The rest of the dinner was spent in relative silence on your part, you were too busy stuffing your mouth with everything you could get your hands on. 

'I made a copy of my notes for you,' said Hermione pulling a stack of parchments out of her bag. 'Also, a certain Slytherin was looking for you …' Hermione continued grinning after you thanked her. 

_That really does not narrow it down_. 

'Speaking of who …' Ron said pointing behind you. You turned around to see Joon walking purposefully towards the Gryffindor's table. 

‘If you leave without me, I swear I _will_ kill you all,’ you whispered to the three of your friends before rapidly turning around to greet Joon. 

'You're a difficult lady to find,' he said towering over you. 'May I borrow you if you're done with dinner-?' 

'She is all yours,' Hermione blurred out. 

You glared at Harry, remaining him of your promise by sliding your thumb against your neck before Joon led you away to the Slytherin table. As you seated down, the entire table looked at you and the second wave of anxiety you thought was subsided by the Calming Draught flashed over your insides. You did not look your best, to say the least: hair messy from the afternoon nap, bags under your eyes were not so prevalent but still present, you had no makeup, you did not even remember if you washed your face this morning at all. 

'You look beautiful, don't worry,' as if reading your mind whispered Joon. 

'I didn't think you had it in you, Jones, skipping class ...' said Zabini smirking. Despite hating to look like a rebellious prefect, you were relieved to hear nobody at the table knew the real reason behind your absence. 

'She's still a filthy Hufflepuff! Why are you hanging out with her?' grumbled Pansy Parkinson who was sitting four or five people away. 

'Draco broke up with you and now you're bitter and sad Pansy,' Joon replied coldly, bringing your hand to his lips to kiss it, 'I spent my time with whoever I like.' 

'Are you dating or something?' One of the seven-years sitting next to Joon said. 

It was of high importance you intercepted whatever Joon’s answer was going to be. 

‘ _No_ ,’ you blurred out, perhaps a little too eager, catching Joon’s mouth open in mid reply. 

Following your reply, you heard a loud, hysterical laugh erupt from both Crabbe and Goyle a little further at the table. Parkinson was hitting one of them on the arm, trying to shut them up, Malfoy and Zabini, sitting nearby, looked both annoyed and mildly terrified. The situation could not be any more absurd, the chatter throughout the table had stopped in an attempt to make sense of the spontaneous chaos erupted from those two. 

'Joon got rejected by a Hufflepuff,' Crabbe was holding his stomach from laughter. From the magnitude of his amusement, it must have been the funniest thing he had heard. 

‘ _Enough_ ,’ Joon grunted, standing up, ‘ _leave_.’ Although you knew you were in no danger, the evident tension in his composed voice sent shivers down your spine. Crabbe and Goyle, certainly fearful of retaliations, hurried to grab their stuff and leave Joon’s sight as fast as possible. 

‘씨발진짜 …’ Joon swore, clenching his jaw. 

The whole ordeal at the Slytherin table did not pass unnoticed, at this point, the entire Great Hall was curiously looking over to see what was going on. The dinner had never been this uneasy before, you could practically cut the tension with a knife. 

‘Well, I think I’ll be making my exit,’ you nervously smiled. 

‘C’mon, Jean, stay a little longer,’ pleaded Joon, grabbing your arm when you attempted to get up. 

‘I've to go, sorry, I'll see you later’ pulling your arm back, you finally were able to walk away and escape to the Gryffindor’s table, where Harry, Ron, and Hermione were gathering their things to leave. 

‘We were about to get you,’ cried Ron defensively when he saw you coming closer. 

Not so certain about that statement, you shot him a look full of skepticism. The four of you had a good laugh when you explained the hysterical laughter at the Slytherin’s table. Spending time in the company of the Gryffindor's trio made you forget all about the horrible day you were having. As long as you were together, you were no longer fearful.


	8. Friendships

The rest of the week you spent relatively free of anxiety, with just a few episodes you were able to manage by yourself. It was not until the next Wednesday night when you again found yourself wide awake staring at the upper of your four-poster bed. All the worries rushed to your head at once, overwhelming you with an intense sense of panic. You punched the pillow into a more comfortable shape but once again laying in bed trying to sleep proved unsuccessful, as your brain was too busy reflecting on the mistakes and embarrassing moments from your birth to now rather than focusing on sleeping. 

You regretted not asking Madam Pomfrey for extra ampules of the Sleeping Draught, now you had to risk being caught wandering the corridors past curfew on a campaign for a peaceful sleep. You threw a robe over your pajamas pulling the hood over your head, quietly sneaked out of the room into the common area, and then out to the dungeons. You carefully walked the dim corridors peaking around the corners to make sure Flitch or any of the teachers were not patrolling. Although you were the prefect, it was not your night to enforce the curfew and if you were caught, you were to lose House points.

‘Wandering around at midnight? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you’ll get caughty.’ Peeves appeared in front of you just when you were climbing the stairs to the first floor. 

‘Don’t give me away, please, Peeves. I need to go to the hospital wing …’ you begged, hands pressed together in front of you. 

‘Should tell Filch, I should,’ said Peeves in a saintly voice, his eyes glittering wickedly, ‘Can’t be breaking rules.’ 

No matter how ironic his judgment of you was, reasoning with the trickster never ended in success, there was not much you could do to get rid of him. 

‘ _Silencio_ ,’ you whispered pointing your wand at Peeves. 

The poltergeist flipped the right way up, filled his lungs, and was about to scream but no sound came out. Peeves looked at you angrily flaring his arms to which you shrugged, trying to look confused. Peeves stuck out his tongue and zoomed off down the corridor. You broke into a run avoiding to stick around to face his revenge. 

‘Hey, Hufflepuff, where do you think you're going?’ You heard a distant voice coming from the other end of the corridor. You knew running was pointless so you halted in your tracks, just when you thought you escaped the trouble, someone else caught you. 

You stood still, the person who busted you, walked over from behind. Ashamed to be caught past curfew you slowly turned around bracing yourself for scolding. 

‘ _Jones_? What are you doing here?’ Malfoy was the last person you expected to face. 

The initial shock wore off and you took off your hood, ‘I have the same question for you, Malfoy. I thought you gave up your prefect duties?’ you said surprised. 

‘Well, Snape let me have my position back,’ said Draco pointing to the gold Prefect's badge on his robes. 

You felt embarrassed to be caught out of bed by another prefect, and not just any prefect, _Malfoy_. 

‘You caught me. First skipping class, then sneaking out at night, I guess I'm just rebelling.’ you lied, mustering a fake smile. 

‘Cut the crap, Jones. You are the only prefect who takes away points from their own House, the day you _rebel_ is the day Potter and I become friends,’ Malfoy looked at you concerned. ‘Why are you here?’ 

‘Peeves!’ you muttered, grabbing Draco’s wrist. ‘In here!’ 

You tore to the deserted classroom to your right just in time. Peeves seemed to be back, bouncing along the corridor, laughing his head off. 

‘Okay, fine. I'm going to the hospital wing for Sleeping Draught,’ you whispered, your ear to the door. You realized you were still holding Malfoy’s wrist, quickly let go of him, your face flushed pink. 

‘Why are you being weird about it?’ Draco said after a brief pause. 

‘Because I'm embarrassed, okay?’ you were still whispering. 

Draco got closer and put his ear to the door. ‘I heard Snape talking to Dumbledore about Katie’s accident. You were there, weren’t you?’ Malfoys’ face was barely ten inches from you, his eyes locked in with yours. Your chest tightened, swallowing hard, you breathed heavily. You hugged your arms to prevent your hands from shaking, or at least to hide it from the Slytherin. 

‘I-I never encountered it, you know,’ you looked up at Malfoy again, ‘the Dark magic. I know we learn about it and they show us some, but all of it is not for real- _that_ was for real.’ 

Malfoy did not respond, he waited until Peeves’ voice had faded into the distance, then opened the door stepping into the corridor, motioning for you to follow. 

‘I’ll take you to the hospital wing, come.’ Draco took off up the stairs, you promptly followed after him. 

‘Why are you being nice, it’s weird,’ you broke the silence as you were almost at your destination. 

‘ _I am not._ ’ 

‘ _Yes, you are._ ’ 

‘Do you want me to leave?’ Malfoy snapped at you abruptly, stopping in the middle of the corridor. 

‘No, don’t, I’m sorry…’ you mumbled apologetically. If Malfoy left it would have left you to sneak around the castle again, fearful to be caught by someone else. 

Finally arrived at the hospital wing, you walked in, Madam Pomfrey appeared through the door of her office to greet you. After getting a couple of vials of Sleeping Draught as well as Calming Draught for the emergencies, you walked out back to Malfoy patiently waiting outside the door. After confirming your success by showing the vials you came for, the two of you began walking back to the dungeons. 

‘Why are you patrolling this late alone?’ you said. 

‘ _Could not sleep_.’ 

Malfoy’s answers were short and always followed by silence but yet you did not mind the time spent in Draco’s company. His failure to answer the second part of your question made you feel bad, you completely forgot about him and Pansy no longer being together. 

‘I’m sorry to hear about you and Pansy …’ you hesitantly said, trying to escape the awkward silence. 

‘You don’t have to talk to me just to fill the silence, Jones.’ 

‘I’m not doing it to fill the silence, I just wanted to talk …’ you said quietly. 

Malfoy looked over at you skeptically, then he ran his fingers through his hair, and finally said, ‘That wasn’t going anywhere anyway. I’ll be fine.’ 

You smiled, the fact that Malfoy was no longer spending time with Parkinson made you happy. You thought he was changing for the best. 

Finally, the two of you approached the barrels in the corner of the stone basement corridor. 

‘Thank you, here, take this,’ you said, taking out a vile of the Sleeping Draught from your robes’ pocket. Malfoy shook his hand to reject your offering. 

‘If you don’t take it, I’ll tell the whole school you were nice to me,’ you smirked. 

It could have been the dim lighting or flickering of candles but you could swear you saw the corner of the Slytherin’s mouth curl up into a brief smile, but he quickly stopped himself putting up the look of indifference. Without further ado, he took the vile from your hand and continued down the corridor towards the Slytherin Dungeon. 

You had one of the most restful sleep you had had this entire semester, it was so deep and peaceful you almost slept through breakfast. You cheerfully marched to the Great Hall to meet up with Harry, Hermione, and Ron, then the four of you left for Herbology together. 

Tending to magical and mundane plants was the time of tranquility for your mind and body. Your love for the subject was reflected in the many potted plants scattered around your room, from the little succulents on the bookshelves and windows to the big pots on the floor occupied by Monsteras, Ficuses, Snake Plants, Lavender, Jasmine, and Zamioculcas. 

The brutal wind that was terrorizing the Hogwarts grounds for a couple of weeks had died out at last; however, the weird mist had returned and it took you a little longer than usual to find the correct greenhouse. 

‘So how was Slughorn’s latest party?’ Harry asked as you took your places around one of the gnarled Snargaluff stumps that formed that term’s project, and began pulling on your protective gloves. Professor Sprout ordered the class to divide into groups of no more than three people, so you had to join Neville at the nearby table. 

‘Oh, it was quite fun, really,’ said Hermione, now putting on protective goggles. 'I mean, he drones on about famous ex-pupils a bit, and he absolutely _fawns_ on McLaggen because he’s so well-connected, but he gave us some really nice food and he hosted Jean’s aunt.’ 

You were actively eavesdropping on your friends’ conversation while simultaneously trying to keep up with Neville who was rather proficient at handling the thorn-covered vines. Hermione was right, although she had to postpone twice, your aunt did finally make an appearance at the Slug Club last weekend’s gathering. 

‘Wait, you mean, Jean’s aunt, Gwenog Jones?’ Ron said, his eyes widening under his goggles, ‘ _The_ Gwenog Jones? Captain of the Holyhead Harpies?’ 

‘That’s right, said Hermione, whispering the next part so you could not hear, 'Personally, I thought she was a bit full of herself, but-’ 

‘Quite enough chat over here!’ shouted Professor Sprout briskly, walking over to where the Gryffindor trio was standing, she looked stern. ‘You’re lagging behind, everybody else has started and Neville and Jean have already gotten their first pod!’ 

The three Gryffindors looked over; sure enough, you and Neville both had several nasty scratches along the side of the face and neck, Neville’s lip was cut, but nevertheless, he was clutching an unpleasantly pulsating green object about the size of a grapefruit. Today's class was far from the relaxing tranquil atmosphere you described Herbology to be. 

You were not sure how exactly you two were lucky enough to get the pod so quickly because when Hermione, Harry, and Ron made their attempt, the long, prickly, bramble-like vines flew out of the top and whipped through the air hitting the three of them on the head. Then one tangled itself in Hermione’s hair and Ron had to beat it back with a pair of secateurs; Harry succeeded in trapping a couple of vines and knotting them together, allowing Hermione then to plunge her arm into the hole in the middle of the tentacle branches and snatch the pod for their trio. 

As you were spectating your friends’ struggles, Neville was already puncturing the pod with his silver knife. Your ears, however, were dragged back to the nearby table as the conversation over there was getting somewhat heated. You attempted to make sense of the argument erupting from Hermione and Ron while battling the tentacle-like branches of Snargaluff which whacked you on the head and face about three or four times before you retrieved the second pod. 

‘“ _Slug Club_ ”,’ said Ron with a sneer worthy of Snape. ‘It’s pathetic. Well, I hope you enjoy your party. Why don’t you try getting off with McLaggen, then Slughorn can make you King and Queen Slug - ’ 

‘We’re allowed to bring guests,’ said Hermione, who you could see had turned a bright, boiling scarlet, ‘and I was going to ask you to come, but if you think it’s that stupid then I won’t bother!’ 

While Neville was taking care of the _juicing_ , you had to wrestle with a thorny vine, once more, for the third stump. Focused on not getting murdered by the spiky demon-plant, you missed the rest of the conversation, but as the remainder of the lesson passed without any more mentions of Slughorn’s party, you assumed the argument was resolved and conflict was avoided. The walk back to the castle was spent relatively civilly, Ron and Hermione did not speak but occasionally responded to Harry's or your remarks. 

Although you kept an eye on both of them over the next few days, you did not notice anything different except that they were a little politer to each other than usual. However, a gut feeling that something was going on would not leave you. 

One day after the Transfiguration class, you noticed Harry staying behind to talk to Dean Thomas, who shortly sprinted out of the room excitedly. It was your opportunity to finally have a one on one chat with him without Ron or Hermione present. 

‘You can’t just steal Ginny’s boyfriend, Harry, it’s not polite,’ you joked but by the look of Harry’s face, you could tell it was a bad timing. 

‘Everything okay?’ you said squeezing his arm. 

It seemed Harry was eager to share with you what was bothering him. Harry was worried about what Hermione and Ron going out together would do to their friendship, especially in the case if they were to split up, and what if they did not split up and became excruciatingly embarrassing to hang out with so that he was shut out for good? 

‘Well, you'll always have me,’ you said, smiling. Harry slightly chuckled, his troubles did not end in his friends’ relationships, unfortunately. He had more pressing worries, with Katie still in St Mungo’s he had to ask Dean to join the team. 

‘As you said, Harry, Dean was the next best at tryouts. Seamus and the rest have to understand it.’ 

From the muttering among Gryffindors in the corridors and at meals, you found out that they, in fact, did not understand, and many were quite disgruntled by the choice of Katie’s substitute. The pressure to provide a win in the upcoming match against Slytherin was high. You knew if Gryffindor won, the whole house would forget that they had ever criticized Harry, you were more nervous for the Gryffindor’s Quidditch team results than you had ever been for Hufflepuff’s. 

The next day both of Harry’s problems got exponentially worse. Entering the Great Hall, he pulled you to the Hufflepuff’s table, ducking down to avoid being seen. 

‘He's driving me crazy!’ blurred Harry as soon as you two sat down, ‘I swear to God, Jean!’ 

From Harry’s description of last night’s practice, Dean was not the person he should have been worried about. It was Ron. Ron’s poor performance was followed by the explosive confrontation between him and Ginny when he caught his sister kissing Dean in public. Ron accused her of indecency, while Ginny embarrassed him for mocking his only kiss being from their Aunt and laughed at his overall lack of experience in romance. Personally, you did not think that either of those was that shameful to cause Ron to be so angry, you had never kissed a boy either, or really dated anyone for that matter. Nevertheless, the argument ended in Ron pulling out his wand leaving Harry to step in between them. 

‘It’s not that he's wrong about Ginny kissing Dean in public,’ Harry continued, visibly riled up, ‘but now he as touchy and ready to lash out as the average Blast-Ended Skrewt!’ 

Certainly, Harry’s judgment of Ginny and Dean’s snogging was clouded by his own affection towards the red-haired witch, but that was a thought you kept to yourself. Promising to support him through Ron’s temperament, you decided to attend the next Gryffindor’s practice, the final before Saturday’s match. To say it was a disaster would have been an understatement. Ron had failed to save every single goal the Chasers aimed at him, bellowing at everybody so much that he reduced Demelza Robins to tears. Harry again had to step in when Peakes, the beater, and Ginny were closing in to fight Ron. 

‘This is a disaster,’ you whispered to yourself trying to come up with something you could do to help Harry get through this madness. It did not end in the sky, as soon as Ron’s feet hit the ground he cried about his resignation. 

‘I know you haven’t got any time to find another Keeper, so I’ll play tomorrow, but if we lose, and we will, I’m taking myself off the team.’ You caught Ron shouting when you made it downstairs to the field. 

Harry was tired, you could tell. The stress of being the captain of the team and Ron’s best friend was ripping him apart. You decided to step in and tried boosting Ron’s confidence and encourage him while the three of you were walking to the Great Hall. Nothing you could tell seemed to change his spirits. Moreover, all through dinner you could hear the rest of Gryffindor’s Quidditch team muttering about him and casting nasty looks, making Harry’s attempts to assert to him that the whole team would be devastated if he left hopeless. 

You could not care less for Quidditch but unfortunately, the stupid Quidditch results were directly correlated to your friends’ happiness so you tried your damn hardest to help them out. At one point you even considered giving Ron the Felix Felicis you won earlier this semester but afraid to get caught you quickly dismissed the idea. 

It was your night to patrol the corridors, a perfect opportunity to wander around the castle overthinking the importance of tomorrow’s match. Ernie met up with you by the entrance to the kitchens and the two of you took off towards Slytherin Dungeon where you found the most offenses usually took place. 

‘Why don’t you ask someone on our team for advice?’ Macmillan said. As both of you knew how bad Hufflepuff's team was, you took Ernie’s advice as a sign of disinterest, not even acknowledging it with a response. Wrapping up the patrol around midnight, two of you headed back. You had to rest before the big day tomorrow.


	9. Ends and Beginnings

Breakfast was the usual excitable affair the next morning; the Slytherins hissed and booed loudly as every member of the Gryffindor team entered the Great Hall. You felt apprehensive sitting with your friends today, but when Hermione saw you walking past her, she waved you over. Luna, who was wearing her famous lion-topped hat, was sitting beside. Hermione had become so tired of Ron’s recent unpleasant behaviour she had come down to breakfast with her Ravenclaw friend instead.

‘Harry and Ron should be here soon,’ she said. You glanced at the ceiling and saw a clear, pale blue sky: a good omen. 

The House spirit was at an all-time high, a solid mass of red and gold, even you wore a red sweater to match the occasion. The Gryffindor table cheered as Harry and Ron approached. Harry grinned and waved; Ron grimaced weakly and shook his head. 

‘Cheer up, Ron!’ called Lavender Brown. ‘I know you’ll be brilliant!’ Ron ignored her, he looked dreadful, bags under his eyes from the lack of sleep. 

‘How are you both feelings?’ you asked hesitantly. 

‘Fine,’ said Harry, who was concentrating on handing Ron a cup of pumpkin juice. ‘There you go, Ron. Drink up.’ 

Ron had just raised the cup to his lips when Hermione spoke sharply, ‘Don’t drink that, Ron!’ 

Ron looked up at her, ‘Why not?’ 

‘You just put something in that drink.’ Hermione was now staring at Harry as though she could not believe her eyes, ‘I saw you. You just tipped something into Ron’s cup. You’ve got the bottle in your hand right now! 

‘Excuse me?’ said Harry, stowing the little bottle hastily in his pocket. 

‘Is that Liquid luck?’ you whispered. 

‘Ron, I warn you, don’t drink it!’ Hermione said again, alarmed but Ron picked up the glass, drained it in one, a smile emerged on his face. 

‘You could be expelled,’ said Hermione angrily looking at Harry, but he just shrugged, ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ 

Ron’s mood instantly elevated, the grumpy, angry Ron who would lash out on everything and anyone was nowhere to be seen as his spot was taken by a confident and motivated Keeper. 

It was indeed Ron’s lucky day, not only the weather was marvelous, not a single cloud blocking the sun; Slytherin’s team had some changes, their best scorer Vaisey was injured from yesterday’s practice and Malfoy was off sick. The teams walked out onto the pitch to tumultuous roars and boos. One end of the stadium was solid red and gold; the other a sea of green and silver. Many Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws like you and Luna had taken sides, too. 

‘What happened to Malfoy?’ you asked Hermione when you two settled in the spectator’s box. 

‘Pretty lucky, isn’t it?’ she hissed. 

You were starting to feel uncomfortable sitting next to Hermione who was progressively getting more bitter as Ron was making some truly spectacular saves, some by the very tips of his gloves. With half an hour of the game gone, Gryffindor was leading sixty points to zero, Ginny scored four of the team's six goals. The commentator who was originally critiquing Harry’s choice of Keeper, and wondering loudly whether the two Weasleys were only there because Harry liked them, had to move on to comment on the beaters instead. You looked over at the commentator’s podium that once belonged to Lee Jordan, a tall, skinny blond boy with an upturned nose was standing there. 

‘Is that bloody Zacharias Smith?’ you grunted, squinting to see better. 

Smith was a Hufflepuff Quidditch player whom you and the rest of your friends thoroughly disliked. He was a person you wholeheartedly believed to not belong in Hufflepuff: he was selfish, cowardly, and disloyal, the opposite of everything your house took pride in. You only hoped Coote or Peakes hit a Bludger at him. 

It seemed as though Gryffindor could do no wrong. Again and again, they scored, and again and again, at the other end of the pitch, Ron saved every ball coming at him. He was smiling, and when the crowd greeted a particularly good save with chanting _Weasley_ , he pretended to conduct them from on high. You could see Hermione’s face getting more and more annoyed. 

The snitch was still at large, and suddenly Harper, Malfoy’s replacement, deliberately collided with Harry, hard, nearly knocking him off his broom. Madam Hooch’s back was turned, and though the Gryffindor’s box shouted in anger, by the time she looked around, Harper had already sped off upwards. The Snitch was speeding along high above the two Seekers, gleaming brightly against the clear blue sky. Harry regained his balance and accelerated, but Harper was still ahead of him. 

Gryffindor was only a hundred points up; if Slytherin got there first Gryffindor would lose, Harper was feet from it, his hand outstretched... 

‘C’mon Harry!’ you cried as loud as you could. 

Harry screamed something at Harper making the Slytherin do a double-take; he fumbled the Snitch, let it slip through his fingers, and shot right past it: Harry made a great swipe for the tiny, fluttering ball and caught it. 

‘YES!’ Harry yelled; hurtling back towards the ground, the Snitch held high in his hand. As the crowd realized what had happened, a great shout went up that almost drowned the sound of the whistle that signaled the end of the game. Overwhelmed with joy you threw your arms around Hermione and began jumping up and down unable to contain yourself. Hermione grabbed your arm and pulled you downstairs, her face upset but determined. 

‘Hermione, you don’t know if he actually did it or not, you’re just speculating!’ you tried to pull your friend back when two of you entered the changing rooms. As soon as she saw Harry, Hermione walked over to him, her finger pointing straight at his face accusatory. 

‘You shouldn’t have done it. You heard Slughorn, it’s illegal.’ She said, taking a deep breath. 

‘Just because Ron played brilliantly, it doesn’t mean anything... They were all exceptional! You protested. 

‘What are you two talking about?’ asked Harry, turning away to hang up his robes so that neither of you would see him grinning. 

‘You know perfectly well what we’re talking about!’ said Hermione shrilly. ‘You spiked Ron’s juice with a lucky potion at breakfast! That’s why everything went right, Slytherin players were missing and Ron saved everything!’ 

‘I didn’t put it in!’ said Harry, now grinning broadly. 

He slipped his hand inside his jacket pocket and drew out a tiny bottle that Hermione had seen in his hand that morning. It was full of golden potion and the cork was still tightly sealed with wax. He wanted Ron to think that he had done it, so he faked it when he knew Hermione was looking. Ron saved everything because he _felt_ lucky, he did it all himself. 

Ron stared at Harry for a moment, then rounded on Hermione, imitating her voice. 

‘ _You added Felix Felicis to Ron’s juice this morning, that’s why he saved everything!_ See! I can save goals without help, Hermione!’ Ron strode past her out of the door. 

You did not know what to say, and it seemed neither did Harry. He certainly did not expect his plan to backfire like that, ‘shall…. Shall we go up to the party, then?’ 

‘You go!’ said Hermione, blinking back tears, ‘I don’t know what I’m supposed to have done …’ and she stomped out of the changing room. 

Harry looked over at you, you actively wished to be able to apparate out of the situation that just took place. The two of you walked slowly back up the grounds towards the castle through the crowd, many of whom shouted congratulations at Harry, but he looked like a great sense of let-down washed over him. Without a doubt, you two thought that if Rin won the match, he and Hermione would be friends again and the tension between them would disappear all at once. Now, the situation seemed completely out of control. Harry tightly hugged you before heading to the Gryffindor tower to join the celebrations. You smiled, waving at him. 

While Gryffindors were busy celebrating their triumph, the corridors were filled with bitter Slytherins cursing left and right. You tried looking for Hermione in the library and around some empty classrooms but your search was not successful. You only hoped that she made it safely to the tower. 

Walking through the crowded corridors you bumped into Zacharias Smith who was cheerfully talking to a group of Slytherins, you looked closer to recognize Harper and other members of their Quidditch team. Smith organically fit in with this company. 

‘Supporting Gryffindor, huh? Aren’t you dating a Slytherin, Jones?’ he exasperated looking at your red sweater. The Slytherins beside him threw you contemptuous looks. 

'I'm not dating anyone,’ you retorted trying to contain your annoyance, 'Also, Gryffindor destroyed you guys, so do I even have to defend myself?' 

'If Malfoy didn't get _sick_ we would have won!' one of the Slytherins growled back. 

'What happened to him?' you asked, trying to sound nonchalant. 

_Malfoy was poisoned?_ Who would want to poison him? He would not simply skip a game, especially since it was against Harry, then why would he be at the hospital wing? Your mind rushed back to the cursed necklace, what if it was another attack? You decided you had to visit him to make sure nothing sinister had happened, you could pretend to get more of the Sleeping Draught: nobody needed to know you were worried about Malfoy. With the Slytherin starting to become a decent human being, you thought that he deserved someone to worry about him - for the past couple of months he had been on his best behaviour. _Making new friends is always good_ , you thought, pushing the door open to the hospital wing. 

'Miss Jones, are you in need of more Sleeping Draught?' Madam Pomfrey hurried to meet you by the entrance. 

'Yes mum, thank you,' the matron walked away and returned with two vials of the Sleeping potion. 

'Also, I was wondering ... is Draco Malfoy still here?' you mumbled. 

'Over this way,' she walked past the empty beds to the back window, two privacy screens forming a chamber within. She carefully pulled the curtain to the side, revealing Malfoy sitting up on the bed. 

'Hey.' you said with a weak wave. 

'Jones?’ Draco exclaimed, ‘What the hell are you doing here?' He glared at Madam Pomfrey who hurried to leave two of you alone. 

'Heard you got sick but I see you look quite well,' you said walking over to the side of the bed. 

'I’m well. Pansy somehow slipped the Amortentia into my drink this morning, I noticed too late … Blaise brought me here' he groaned, 'But now _she_ won't let me leave!' Malfoy was annoyed, rolling his eyes and rubbing his temples. 

You chuckled covering your mouth with a hand, Malfoy was helpless under the strict rule of Madam Pomfrey. 

'What's so funny, Jones? Why are you even here? Came to gloat?' Draco growled so loudly it made you twitch. 

‘I was worried, okay?’ you blurred out. You were not about to let him boss you around with that attitude of his. 

Malfoy's expression dropped, the anger and annoyance on his face was at once replaced by genuine surprise that was quickly replaced with a smirk, ‘You worried about me?’ 

‘Don’t let that get into your head, Malfoy’ you quipped, ‘With Harry being your nemesis and all, I thought something really bad had to happen for you to miss the game.’ 

‘Thank you,’ Malfoy smiled, seeing him smile so openly for the first time made you feel uncomfortable but strangely delighted. 

‘I didn’t know you could do that,’ you pointed at his face, joking, ‘with your mouth.’ 

Draco laughed, genuinely laughed, at something _you_ said. It was not a smirk or a chuckle, it was a short but powerful burst full of expression and warmth. It took you by surprise, how different he looked at this moment, how his eyes smiled with him, the way his face became full of relaxed joy and unrestricted mirth, the way he looked at _you_. 

‘Only six visitors at once!’ you heard Madam Pomfrey’s stern voice of protest as the group of Slytherin appeared from behind the privacy curtain. Crabbe and Goyle were first to burst in, followed by Zabini, Nott, Joon, and two seven-years the names of whom you could never remember. 

‘Jean, what are you doing here?’ Joon asked. His demeanor tensed up, he folded his arms, arching an eyebrow at you. 

‘Same as you all, just checking Malfoy did not die on us here,’ you tried to laugh out the awkwardness. 

Joon looked at you and then at Draco as if he was trying to read your minds to find out if you were telling the truth. By the expression on his face, you could tell he did not believe in the innocent of your intentions. You had nothing to be embarrassed for, you being nice to Malfoy did not mean anything, you were nice to everyone. 

‘Well, I’ll leave you guys to it, cheers.’ you walked out of the makeshift room’ headed to the door, but before you could close it behind you, Joon caught up to you. 

‘Wait!’ he said, his voice irritated and cold, “Why are you avoiding me?’ 

‘I’m not avoiding you, Joon. I was busy …’ you protested continuing walking away from the hospital wing. 

‘Not too busy to hang out with Potter, and _others_ ’ Joon walked beside you. 

‘What is that supposed to mean?’ you stopped to face him, now it was your time to raise an eyebrow. 

‘People talk, Jean. You and Potter hugging, holding hands, what do you think you’re doing?’ Joon unsuccessfully tried to hide the immense irritation in his voice. 

‘Don’t be ridiculous, Harry and I are just friends…’ you dismissed, resuming your walk. 

‘Don’t you walk away from me!’ He grabbed your arm, yanking it back, almost knocking you off your feet. 

You looked up to face him. Joon seemed to be getting angrier the more he looked at you, his lips pursed, jaw clenched. You felt little, puny compared to his towering frame, like a mouse cornered by a cat. 

‘You seem to be free for everyone except me,’ he continued pulling you closer, ‘are you playing with me?’ 

‘Let go of me,’ you forcefully pulled your arm back, taking a step back, ‘What’s wrong with you?’ 

‘You don’t need _Potter_ , you have me, I’ll take care of you … I love you-' Joon once again reached for your arm but you quickly jumped away. 

Just a short time ago, those words would have made you the happiest person on the planet, yet hearing them now made you feel neither happy nor loved - it made you angry, annoyed, frustrated, and even a little scared. 

‘ _Potter_ happens to be one of my best friends and _you_ have no business telling me who I should and shouldn’t be hanging out with. I don’t know what games _you_ are playing, but surprise, I’m not interested in spending time with you _and_ ten more people in your entourage. You never spent time just with me, or my friends. You say you care for me, yet you constantly put me in uncomfortable situations, make me feel like I'm just a trophy you drag around. That’s not love …’ overwhelmed with all the emotions you were experiencing, there was no stopping you, your voice raised, turning into a scream. 

‘Never again lay your hands on me!’ you raged, piercing Joon with your glare, ‘How dare you to say you love me?’ The anger boiled inside of your chest like hot lava. The occasional passersby were staring over to see what was going on. So worked up you could barely breathe, you stormed off not letting Joon get even a word in. 

Feet carried you to the courtyard then out of the castle, ignoring anyone who tried talking to you. Only when you reached the big wooden door of Hagrid’s hut you came back to your senses and realized where you stood. With the Gryffindor’s trio at the celebration party, Hagrid was the only person you could go to, the only one who you felt comfortable crying to. 

The sun had long sat when you returned to the castle. The corridors were now mostly empty, you dreaded bumping into anyone you knew so you quickly rushed to make it back to the Hufflepuff Common Room. You were going to take the Sleeping Draught and fall asleep, leaving today behind you. 

'Are you out of your bloody mind Jean? You were crazy about this guy for, what, three years? And now you just break things off? ARE YOU CRAZY?' As you walked into your room, you were greeted by Mina to whom you regretted permitting to let herself in. 

'He doesn’t care for me Mina, he only cares for himself, I was blind not to see that before' You said confidently, sitting down on the bed next to her. Maybe you were naive, inexperienced, shy, but you were done being treated like that, you deserved better even if you did not fully believe that yourself. 

'You are _literally_ a moron.' Mina did not seem impressed with your newly found self-respect and determination. 

' _Excuse me_?' 

'You heard me.' Her voice was stern but mocking at the same time, 'The cute boy's crazy about you and what does this one do? I can't believe it. I would _die_ for Joon to even look at me! Do you know how many guys in my year ask me about you? Jean this, Jean that! It's always you! You have it so good and you don't even care! It's so unfair!' The initial anger and frustration in your sister's voice switched into a half cry as she was gasping for air to finish her rant, her voice quivering. 

'Mina…' you reached to grab her hand but she quickly pulled away, 'the only person he is crazy about is himself, you don’t want that... You want to feel loved, feel like _you_ matter like you're the luckiest girl in the world …you want to know that you _are_ the priority.’ 

Speaking to your sister you were perfectly describing your own desires. Perhaps it was unachievable but that is what you wished for, a person who truly loved you. The tears began to pool in your eyes and the emotions from earlier today rushed back with full force. Mina looked up at your face, then threw herself at you, making you wrap your hands around her tightly. She was still crying, sobs shaking her whole body. It took some time for her to calm down as she fell asleep still in your arms just like she used to when you two were children. Slowly pulled away, you helped Mina to a more comfortable position, covering her with a blanket. Layering a comforter and a couple of extra blankets, you retired to the floor for the night.


	10. Potion Master

The second half of November passed by fast, your timetable was so busy you barely had any time for anything except studying. Between the daily visits to the library and tutoring younger Hufflepuffs, your interactions with Harry, Hermione, and Ron were reduced to occasional chatting over a meal or in-between classes. With the latter two not speaking to each other, your communications were mostly separate, spending the most time with Harry who was struggling to mediate between the two. Your friendship with Hermione also took a hit as both of you no longer had the time or desire to attend the Slug Club meetings. Moreover, not being by Joon’s side tremendously hurt your reputation with the Slytherins, no longer untouchable, you were harassed almost daily, although their efforts at torment were quite pathetic and mostly resulted in weak annoyance if anything.

The lack of social distractions during the day allowed you to fully focus on studying, comfortably completing homework for weeks ahead at the time. Wholly devoting yourself to education, in your free time, you volunteered to help professors, assisting Snape in grading lower years’ homework; supervising detention for both Professor McGonagal and Professor Flitwick; helping out Hagrid with tending to Buckbeak and other creatures at his care; and sorting and cleaning the greenhouses for Professor Sprout, a task you often completed with Neville who himself was eager to spend more time with the plants. 

The beginning of December that brought snow swirling against the icy windows, kissed a cold goodbye to the crisp warmth and color of the Autumn months. Completely changing your wardrobe to exclusively sweaters was your indication of the weather change, along with the new hair color you were sporting: courtesy of your independent studies on human transfiguration. 

‘If you were going for Elsa, it sure worked’ Mina once again was sitting on your bed observing you casting _Crinus Muto_ over and over again to achieve the perfect icy ash-blonde color. 

‘I guess I just wanted to _let it go_ ,’ you winked at her, giggling. 

The look of the Disney princess appealed to you, braiding the hair to resemble the hairstyle of the Frozen heroine. Satisfied with the final look, you twirled around excitedly. 

Nothing could ruin your mood today, the beginning of winter meant Christmas was fast approaching, and although the castle was yet to be decorated, you were already in a holiday mood. The change to your hair color seemed to confuse the Slytherins, on your walk to the Great Hall you did not hear a single snarky comment thrown your way. 

‘ _Is that Jean Jones_ ’ the confused chatter heard over the tables. 

‘You look amazing, Jean!’ said Neville as you sat in front of Harry and him. 

‘All this stress really got to me, huh?’ you shrugged jokingly while taking a sip of your morning coffee. Neville joined in on the laugh while Harry only weakly smiled. 

‘How are things with Ron and Hermione?’ you asked. Harry looked up from his breakfast and shook his head forlornly. 

Although Harry preferred the new laughing, joking Ron to the moody, aggressive model he had been enduring for the last few weeks, the improved Ron came at a heavy price. Not only Harry had to put up with the frequent presence of Lavender Brown, who seemed to regard any moment that she was not kissing Ron as a moment wasted; but also he found himself, once more, the best friend of two people who seemed unlikely ever to speak to each other again. Harry, determined to remain friends with both Ron and Hermione, looked profoundly exhausted and miserable. 

‘Let’s go to Hogsmeade today!’ you suddenly exclaimed. Harry and Neville looked at you confused. 

‘Aren’t you helping Snape with something later?’ said Harry who must have overheard your offer of help after the last DADA class. 

Indeed, you were supposed to help Professor Snape in marking another batch of homework but you could just not go, Harry needed you and friends always came first. You told Neville and Harry to meet you by the Entrance Hall in twenty minutes, then headed to Professor Snape's office to excuse yourself for the day, the door was ajar as you approached. 

‘I’m afraid the smell of Amortentia can’t be altered ... It’s unique to every individual’ you heard Snape’s low voice inside. Then it raised suddenly, making you jump, ‘Come in!’ 

Snape caught you snooping on his conversation, you felt embarrassed but pushed the door open and walked in as if nothing happened. 

‘I’m sorry, Professor, the door was open-’ now fully inside his office you saw the person he had a meeting with - Malfoy. As soon as your eyes met, he quickly looked away, hiding a soft pink hue gracing his naturally pale cheeks. 

‘That’s a very impressive transfiguration, Miss Jones.’ Snape and Draco both stared at your hair, ‘If that is all, Draco, you’re free to leave.’ Malfoy nodded in response and marched out of the door. 

Professor Snape did not tolerate lies, so you knew explaining that one of your friends was not feeling well and needed your support was your only chance in his understanding, purposefully neglecting to mention it was Harry you planned to spend the day cheering up. Snape’s face did not express any emotion, thus it was hard to tell how he felt about you backing on your promise, but after a couple of excruciating seconds of silence, he declared you to be free for the day. 

_Today could not get better_ , you thought, now you were to enjoy the rest of it at Hogsmeade with Harry and Neville. You walked out to the corridor only to see Malfoy pacing just outside the door, he seemed nervous. 

‘Are you waiting for me?’ you asked tilting your head to the side. 

‘Actually, yeah. Can we talk?’ he said. You nodded and beckoned him over, moving along the corridor. 

‘Don’t want to ruin your rep with your housemates, here is safe’ you walked into one of the empty classrooms, shutting a door behind Malfoy. 

‘I don’t care what they think,’ Draco snapped, ‘I-I didn’t have a chance to properly thank you … for visiting me, you know, after the game.’ 

The muscles on his face tended up as he looked at you ardently, ‘I was going to pass this to you through Snape, but ... here you go,’ out of a pocket of his blazer, he removed a hand-size gold box, a matching satin ribbon tied in a bow around it. Your eyes lit up with glee as you had recognized it to be the chocolates from Honeydukes. 

‘Thank you,’ you said smiling like a child, extending both of your hands to get the sweets, ‘You know your audience, Malfoy, I _love_ chocolate.’ 

‘I don't know if you heard but Professor Slughorn finally invited me to be a member of his _club_ ,' Draco looked awfully proud of himself. 'But I didn’t see you there the last gathering …' 

‘Well, I was kinda tired of them, to be honest, did he mention my absence at all?’ you said untying the bow on the box. 

‘He did a couple of times, but he mostly talks about _Potter_.’ 

‘Yeah he does that _a lot_ , better get used to it. He also won’t shut up about McLaggen, I couldn’t stand hearing about his _Uncle Tiberius in the Ministry_.’ You retorted, imitating Slughorn’s voice. 

‘I was excited to see you there, to be honest,’ Malfoy suddenly blurred as you finally got the box opened and your fingers were wrapped around the chocolate you were longing for. Almost dropping it back into the box, you looked up at Draco, not believing what you had heard, ‘Huh?’ 

‘I-I mean, you seem like a fun person to hang out with _and_ you're really good at Potions. Snape keeps telling me I can learn a lot from you.’ 

‘I _am_ a fun person to hang out with, thank you,’ you pursed your lips in approval, ‘but, you know, I’m not the most popular person to hang out with nowadays.’ 

‘As I said, I happen to not care what others think. I hope to see you at the next dinner, _Jones_.’ Malfoy offered you a smirk before opening the door, waiting for you to exit first. 

‘Honestly, if I didn’t know you, Malfoy, I would think you’re trying to be friends,’ you giggled, biting down on the second chocolate. 

‘ _And what if I am_?’ 

‘Well, I’d say …’ you turned to face him, smiling, ‘ _try harder_.’ 

You popped the rest of the chocolate into your mouth and skipped down the corridor. You were too far to notice the blush searing through Draco’s face, his lips curved into a smile as he watched you hop away. 

Neville and Harry patiently waited for you at the entrance to the Great Hall, you skipped right up to them, and hooking your arms with each of theirs, pulled them forwards out of the castle. Despite the beginning of winter, the walk to Hogsmeade was far more pleasant than the last time. The sun was high and bright, making you squint every time your eyes wandered off the ground but keeping you warm on the way to the village. 

Your first destination was Honeydukes, finished the box Malfoy gave you, you were desperately in need of more chocolates, and caramels, and other candy, everything you had the money for. It seemed no trip to Hogsmeade could pass by without you spending an unreasonable amount of Galleons at the sweet shop. The next stop was Zonko's, it was finally open for business. Visiting the place significantly brightened Harry’s mood, by the time your trio walked out of the store, he was grinning and laughing about his purchase of Frog Spawning Soap. Then you made a quick stop by Gladrags Wizardwear where you once again ensured your utter confusion about wizarding wear, before the three of you headed to spend the rest of the trip by the fireplace with a glass of Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks. The pub, as always, was crowded and warm, distracting Harry from the external worries waiting for him at the castle. 

‘Why did the blind man fall into the well?’ you said, smiling, as soon as three of you found a table. 

Gryffindors looked at you, confusion in their faces. 

‘ _Because he couldn’t see that well_ ,’ you giggled, dramatically slapping your knee. 

‘That’s a terrible joke, Jean.’ Harry burst into laughter, whipping the tear that pooled in one of his eyes. 

The atmosphere was no longer tense and dreadful like it was back at breakfast. Harry, Neville, and you spent the rest of your time telling bad jokes and funny stories to each other. By the time you had noticed it was time to go back, your cheeks were sore from all the laughter and smiling. The three of you made it back to the castle just an hour before the curfew, time flew by fast surrounded by good friends. 

Approaching the Gryffindor tower, a crying Hermione pushed past your group, disappearing around the corner into the next corridor. 

‘Not again …’ Harry rushed after her, throwing a quick wave to you and Neville. 

You said goodnight to the remaining Gryffindor and were about to walk away when he suddenly began to follow you. 

‘I’ll take you to the dungeons, is that okay?’ Neville spoke hesitantly. You were happy to have a company on your way downstairs. You enjoyed speaking to Neville about plants, and Herbology in general, just like you, he had a great passion and love for the subject. It seemed, however, he did not get a chance to share his enthusiasm about it often, he excitedly rambled about the Mimbulus mimbletonia gifted to him by his grandmother. You eagerly listened to his description of the plant’s pulsating and squirming nature and its unique defense mechanism. Neville was one of the most wholesome and purest people you had ever met, even beyond Hogwarts walls, spending time with him was peaceful and full of joy. 

‘Neville, would you like to go to Slughorn’s party with me?’ You asked him when you finally reached the kitchens. 

Neville turned his eyes upon you in surprise. 

‘Slughorn’s party?’ 

‘Yeah,’ you said, ‘Slughorn is having a Christmas party later this month, we’re supposed to bring guests, so I thought you might like to go with me ... I mean, as friends …’ You made sure to make your intentions perfectly clear. 

‘I’d love to!' Neville’s eyes beamed with glee almost as brightly as they were beaming when he talked about the Mimbulus mimbletonia. 

‘Splendid! I’ll let you know the details later! Goodnight Neville!’ 

Your next day’s schedule was packed, reviewing the readings for Ancient Runes you did not have time to come down for breakfast, leaving your room with just enough time to make it to class. The second period of Defence Against the Dark Arts went relatively well, Harry kept his mouth shut throughout the whole class, thus managing to not piss off Snape even once, quite a rare occurrence. Care of Magical Creatures as always, was a joyful time spent in Hagrid’s company, the second most enjoyable class after Herbology, of course. The morning passed by so quickly you did not notice your stomach growling from hunger until after you came down for lunch. The only familiar face you noticed was that of Luna's, who you decided to join at the Ravenclaw’s table. 

‘Your hair is so pretty,’ Luna reached out to touch your head, you got so proficient at the transfiguration you changed it once again - today it was pastel-pink. 

‘Thank you. How is your semester so far?’ you said, pushing your hair to the other side. 

‘Oh, it’s been all right,’ said Luna in her usual calm, even voice, ‘A bit lonely, Ginny’s been nice, though. She stopped two boys in our Transfiguration class calling me “Looney” the other day.’ 

‘Well, boys are stupid, so don't listen to what they say.' You chuckled. 

‘Harry’s nice.’ 

‘Yes, he’s,’ you replied, finishing up your meal. 

By the time the bell for the afternoon class rang, you were already out of the Great Hall, running down the stairs to Potions. The usual crowd of twelve students was waiting by the closed-door out in the corridor. Merely a few seconds later, the door swung open and the walrus mustache and a round belly of Professor Slughorn appeared from within the room, followed by the rest of him. 

‘Come in, come in, gather at the front please, don’t take seats yet!’ he cried as everyone was rushing into the classroom. 

‘I’d like to pair you up for today’s class!’ a chatter erupted in the room quickly stopped by Slughorn clearing his throat, ‘ _I_ will be choosing everyone’s pairs, making each pair an equal balance of skill and talent!’ 

This prospect did not make you happy as you anxiously waited for your name to be called. Harry and Ernie MacMillian were announced as the first pair; then Slughorn announced a pair of Ron and one of the Ravenclaw students; Hermione was horrified when she heard her name followed by Parkinson’s. 

‘Jean Jones,’ Slughorn finally got to you, ‘and Draco Malfoy.’ 

‘Could have been worse,’ you thought, relieved Pansy was stuck with Hermione. 

After students were paired up, and one group of three was formed between the two Ravenclaws and Zabini, everyone took seats beside their partners. The complaints were heard from multiple working stations. 

‘Settle down, settle down, please! Quickly, now lots of work to get through this afternoon! Golpalott’s Third Law… who can tell me-? Miss Jones, of course!’ 

You were less than a second faster in raising your hand than Hermione, making her grimace in disappointment. 

‘Golpalott’s Third Law states that the antidote for a blended poison will be equal to more than the sum of the antidotes for each of the separate components.’ You recited at top speed almost word for word from the textbook. 

‘Precisely!’ beamed Slughorn. ‘Ten points for Hufflepuff! Now, if we accept Golpalott’s Third Law as true…’ 

‘Are you always this smart?’ Malfoy whispered as you sat back down onto your seat. 

‘I thought you wanted to learn from me, Malfoy.’ you glared at him. 

‘I _am_ learning. I like your hair by the way, really cute.' He cooed into your ear, smirking. Dismissing his comments as sarcasm, you elbowed him in the stomach to shut him up. 

‘Therefore, if we have achieved correct identification of the potion’s ingredients by Scarpin’s Revelaspell, our primary aim is not the relatively simple one of selecting antidotes to those ingredients in and of themselves, but to find that added component which will, by an almost alchemical process, transform these disparate elements-’ Slughorn continued. 

Ron, who was just to the right of your table, was sitting with his mouth half-open, doodling absently on his copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_. You were worried because neither Harry nor Hermione were anywhere in a range to help him in today's task. 

‘...and so, I want each of the pairs to come and take one of these vials from my desk. You are to create an antidote for the poison within it before the end of the lesson. Good luck, and don’t forget your protective gloves!’ 

Draco volunteered to pick up the vial from Slughorn’s desk, returned, he tipped the contents of it into the cauldron sitting on the table in front of you and lit a fire underneath it. You did not need your copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_ to crack this one, you were more than confident in your knowledge of the principles involved. Taking over the work, you were waving your wand enthusiastically over the cauldron, casting the ingredient identifying spell nonverbally. 

Harry looked gloomy, when Slughorn peered hopefully into his cauldron on his first circuit of the dungeon, preparing to exclaim in delight as he usually did, he instead had withdrawn his head hastily, coughing, as the smell of bad eggs overwhelmed him. Hermione’s expression could not have been any smugger; she had loathed being out-performed in every Potions class. She was now decanting the mysteriously separated ingredients of her poison into ten different crystal vials. 

‘We could have just used bezoar instead,' you sighed combining your antidote ingredients into a new potion. Malfoy looked at you confused. 

‘ _Bezoar_? Don’t you remember, our first-ever Potions class?’ Draco’s face was lacking the recognition you were looking for, ‘ _A stone taken from the stomach of a goat, it protects from most poisons_.’ 

‘Should we add it then?’ Malfoy asked. You rolled your eyes, having zero clue how he had made it to Slug Club with such Potion knowledge. 

‘ _No_ , you don’t add it, Bezoar _is_ the antidote.’ 

‘Two minutes left, everyone!’ you heard Slughorn’s voice just as you were bottling up the finished product. By the looks around the room, you and Malfoy were ahead of everyone. 

‘Time’s… UP!’ called Slughorn genially. ‘Well, let’s see how you’ve done! Blaise … what have you got for me?’ 

Slowly, Slughorn moved around the room, examining the various antidotes. Nobody seemed to have finished the task, making you smile with confidence. Hermione was trying to cram a few more ingredients into her bottle before Slughorn reached her and Pansy. When he got to Harry and Ernie Slughorn’s face was full of hope. 

‘And you, Harry,’ he said. ‘What you two have got to show me?’ 

Ernie looked defeated but then Harry held out his hand, he must have been reading your mind because on his palm was sitting none other than bezoar. 

Slughorn looked down at it for a full ten seconds, then he threw back his head and roared with laughter. 

‘You’ve got a nerve, boy!’ he boomed, taking the bezoar and holding it up so that the class could see it. ‘Oh, you’re like your mother … well, I can’t fault you … a bezoar would certainly act as an antidote to all these potions!’ 

‘Isn’t that what you talked about?’ Malfoy leaned in to whisper, you gave him a positive nod. 

Hermione, who was sweaty-faced and had soot on her nose, looked livid. Her half-finished antidote, comprising fifty-two ingredients including a chunk of her own hair, bubbled sluggishly behind Slughorn, who had eyes for nobody but Harry right now. 

‘That’s the individual spirit a real potion-maker needs!’ said Slughorn happily, ‘Just like his mother, she had the same intuitive grasp of potion-making, it’s undoubtedly from Lily he gets it… of course, they don’t work on everything and are pretty rare, it seems Harry again was outstanding in the task-’ 

‘Professor! You haven't examined our cauldron yet!’ snapped Malfoy who was looking almost as angry as Hermione listening to all the compliments and praise Harry was getting. 

‘Ah, of course, Jean must have gone close to completing-’ 

‘ _It’s finished_ , Professor.’ you clarified. 

Slughorn’s round face perked up even more, swiftly walking over to you and Malfoy. He closely examined the bottle you presented, waved his wand two or three times, and finally exploded with overwhelming glee. 

‘Incredible! Brilliant! Extraordinary!’ Slughorn boomed with praise, ‘Such a marvel you are, young lady, no one in my class before, _no one_... was able to demonstrate a perfect antidote. Your skill is unmeasurable … beyond anything I’ve seen before, such raw talent!’ 

Malfoy did not achieve exactly what he wanted as Professor Slughorn completely ignored him throughout the entire rant, giving you all of the credit for the work. 

‘Twenty points to Hufflepuff! Incredible, simply incredible!’ Slughorn turned to finally face Draco, who was not hiding his annoyance, ‘and ten points to Slytherin, for contribution …’ 

Slughorn’s and class’s attention now was focused on you, which made you slightly uncomfortable. The bell rang saving you from the looks of envy and fury thrown by the rest of the class. 

‘Time to pack up!’ said Slughorn, ‘And ten points to Gryffindor for sheer cheek!’ Still smiling, he waddled back to his desk at the front of the class. Everyone hurried to pack up and exit the dungeon to make it to their next class. 

‘Pansy was so full of shit,’ Draco said turning to you, ‘claiming you were cheating. You’re brilliant at this. Way better than _Potter_ ’ 

‘Thank you.’ you said packing up your bag, ‘You being nice to me is so _weird_ , honestly. 

'I'm trying harder just like you said.' Malfoy smirked. 

'Jean, are you coming?' Harry shouted, waiting by the door for you to catch up. Shoving the rest of your stuff into a bag you hurried to rejoin Harry in the corridor, throwing Malfoy a nod as a goodbye.


	11. Christmas Party

Just in two weeks, the castle was ready for Christmas. Hagrid had already singlehandedly delivered the usual twelve Christmas trees for the Great Hall: garlands of holly and tinsel had been twisted on the banisters of the stairs; everlasting lights and candles stretched along the corridors and on the walls of Common Rooms; great bunches of mistletoe had been hung at intervals along the corridors. Large groups of girls tended to converge underneath the mistletoe bunches every time Harry went past, which caused blockages; fortunately, however, Harry's frequent night-time wandering and Marauder Map had given him an unusually good knowledge of the castle's secret passages, navigating himself through mistletoe-free routes between classes.

Except for a couple of awkward encounters under the mistletoe that ended up with you bolting for your life, your romantic life was just as uneventful as Harry's. The lack of so-called social life did not seem to bother you much, you were too busy being excited about the holidays. The Christmas decorations and lights brought you immense joy, making you feel like a child again. The atmosphere around was filled with holiday spirit and celebrations, winter break was approaching fast. 

The upcoming Slughorn's party excited you, getting a chance to dress up and relax brought back the memories of the Yule Ball you were too young to properly enjoy back in the fourth year. Not mentioning the party to your mother did not work out as the next package she sent, among other things, contained a beautiful glacier blue ballerina tulle gown with three-dimensional floral embroidery and delicate crystal embellishments on the long chiffon sleeves, bodice, and the skirt; and a pair of ribbon tied shoes. The party was the only thing all the other girls seemed to be talking about as well, everyone was trying to get an invite from either Harry, Blaise, or Draco. 

'In my opinion, everyone cares way too much about dating.' You were sitting at the Ravenclaws table with Luna and Neville. 

'It's because nobody would date you, Jones,' the nasally screeching voice of Parkinson came from the table nearby, followed by the equally annoying laughter. 

'If I was a guy I'd date you, Jean.' said Luna, not looking up from the textbook she was reading. 

'See Parkinson,' you looked over Luna's shoulder to meet Pansy's gaze, 'you say _nobody_. Luna would date me, I'm clearly a girlfriend material here, so _fuck you_.' Throwing snarky comebacks to Parkinson's cheeky comments usually shut her and the rest of Slytherins up. 

For a brief second your eyes met Malfoy's, and he smirked. Swiftly averting your gaze back to your friends, you returned to your meal. 

'She seems to talk about you a lot' said Luna, the comment you did not pay much thought to. 

After lunch, it was time to get back to the busy class and homework schedule you have outlined until the Christmas break. To avoid doing any work during the holidays, you were motivated to study as hard as ever. Charms went relatively well, despite Neville knocking off Professor Flitwick with a powerful jet from Water-Making Spell, which gained him certain detention. Scared to lift his wand again for the rest of the class, Neville practically ran out of the classroom to escape more of Flitwicks’ anger. You, however, stayed behind to help Professor in cleaning up all the damage done by Neville. 

At dinner, you could not see either Harry or Hermione, making your way, once again, to the Ravenclaws table to dine with Luna. 

Slughorn’s party was tomorrow and you needed to discuss the details with your Gryffindor friends, so you were determined to find them. Checking with Ginny if they were in the Common room and getting a negative answer, you knew there was only one other place Hermione could be at this hour. 

You entered the library and your gaze quickly fell upon the duo you were looking for. ‘Hey, you guys,’ you pulled out a chair across from Hermione who had been furiously scratching something away with her quill. Harry sitting next to her looked up to greet you with a slight nod. Thankful to see a friend he could share his frustrations with over Ron and Hermione, put a smile on his face. 

‘Jean, have you invited anyone to Slughorn’s party?’ said Harry, speaking in a slight hoarse whisper after almost an hour of silence. 

‘You and Harry should go together; he did not ask anyone yet’ said Hermione sharply, her gaze still down, focusing on what you could tell from reading upside down was most definitely the essay for Ancient Runes you had finished earlier in the morning. 

‘I assumed you two would go together as friends after Ron, you know-’ you looked over at Hermione, who at the mention of Weasley’s name started writing with such vigor her quill ripped a hole in her parchment. 

‘Unfortunately, I, myself, have not thought of that, and after the events that transpired … I had to make other arrangements,’ Hermione forced out of herself while reaching out for a new piece of parchment. 

You could not help but feel bad for your friend, the row with Ron completely threw her out of her comfort zone. No longer she had full and utter control over her orderly life. Some things you just cannot learn from a textbook, you thought. 

‘I'm sorry,’ you looked back at Harry, ‘I already invited Neville. But I heard so many girls talking about you I can hardly imagine finding someone to go with would be a difficult task. Should be a piece of cake for a _Chosen One_ to find a date,’ you winked at Harry, nudging his shoulder. 

Your comment forced a chuckle out of Harry while Hermione was visibly annoyed by both of you, evidently rolling her eyes before returning to her writing. 

‘Either way, I would be watching what I am drinking if I were you-’ mumbled Hermione. 

You froze; Hermione and Harry heard it too. Somebody moved close behind you among the bookshelves. After a couple of seconds, you could see who the mystery figure creeping through the shadows was, no other than Madam Pince. The vulture-like countenance of the Hogwarts librarian appeared around the corner, her long-hooked nose, and sunken cheeks unflatteringly illuminated by the large lantern she was carrying. 

You turned your head sharply to the left to look at the large clock hanging on the wall, the emergence of Madam Pince became painfully obvious to you. 

‘The Library is now closed,’ she said. ‘Return anything you have borrowed and leave,’ Madam Pince was about to approach the table the three of you were sitting at. Glancing down to Harry’s belongings you noticed the Prince's copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_. Aware of the reaction a book that has been written in can cause on the librarian, you hastily covered it up with one of the pieces of parchment laying on the table. Seeming to have enough problems for one day, Hermione did not hesitate long before she packed her things, and grabbing Harry by the arm, pulled him to the exit. You nodded Pince goodbye and promptly followed the two out of the library. 

‘She will ban you from the library if you are not careful. Why did you have to bring that stupid book?’ you heard Hermione say as you stepped into the corridor. 

‘That book is brilliant, if you ask me,’ you said caught up with your friends. ‘It has a lot of the same instructions my mom taught me, and I talked about some other things in it with Professor Snap and it all checked out.’ 

‘You might be the only person outside of Slytherin Snape doesn’t hate,’ Hermione said as three of you were making your way along the deserted, lamp-lit corridors back to your respected Common Rooms. 

‘Doesn’t hate? I think you meant to say, the only person Snape actually likes. Hermione, Jean _is_ Snape’s favorite student, no question about it,’ declared Harry. 

'I don't know guys, no matter how horrible of a person he might be, he’s remarkable at potions and can be of great help despite not teaching it anymore,' you concluded. 

You were at the end of the corridor where you had to say goodbye to the Gryffindor duo and head downstairs to the Hufflepuff dungeon. 'Hope you can find someone to go with, Harry!' 

'I hope so too,' Harry replied. Three of you exchanged 'goodnights' and waved before separating your own ways. 

The walk to the dungeons was not your favorite journey at night. The dim-lit corridor leading to the kitchens other than smelling of freshly baked bread was gloomy and ominous thanks to the lack of windows and overall dumpy feeling you got walking through it. Approaching the kitchens, however, you could see a warm light peeking through the bottom of the door that led to the domain of house-elves. Ignoring the charming aroma you could smell even at this late hour, you hurried passed the kitchens to the pile of barrels stacked up in a shadowy stone recess on the right-hand side of the corridor. "The barrel two from the bottom, middle from the second row…", you sang in your head, the lines every Hufflepuff knows. "...open wide when tapped in the rhythm of 'Helga Hufflepuff'". Entering the always cheerful bee-like yellow Common Room you were not surprised to see it quite lively even at this hour. A couple of first years seated next to the fireplace turned to look at you as you entered the room. You shot them a warm smile and continued farther to the dormitories. 

Laying in your bed you wished for Hermione and Ron to reconcile so the peace could return to the Gryffindor trio, and especially Harry who, in your opinion, had been affected the worst by this whole situation. 

‘Goodnight, Jiji,’ you stroked the ear of the cat who nested at your legs. Your eyes grew heavy as you drifted off to the sound of the calm and soothing rumble of Jiji’s purr. 

Your wishes, however, were not destined to come true as the Transfiguration class the following day brought nothing but frustration and more arguing between the Gryffindor couple, well now, an ex-couple you guessed. You had just embarked upon the immensely difficult topic of human transfiguration; working in front of mirrors, you were supposed to be changing the color of your eyebrows. Mastered the hair transfiguration, the smaller sample was appearing to be a more challenging task, as your every attempt resulted in yet another hair color. 

‘That’s a marvelous job, Miss Jones! But it seems you’re ahead of the class, we’re working on the eyebrows today.’ cheered McGonagall passing by you. 

Your frustrations grew larger as your next attempt resulted in yet new hair color, your eyebrows unchanged. Incidentally, you were not the only one who was struggling. Hermione seemed to be the first one to perfectly change the color of her eyebrows to yellow, then to blue, then back to the original brown. Harry and Ron were not as accomplished, Hermione laughed unkindly at Ron’s disastrous first attempt, during which he somehow managed to give himself a spectacular handlebar mustache; Ron retaliated by doing a cruel but accurate impression of Hermione jumping up and down in her seat every time Professor McGonagall asked a question, which Lavender and Parvati found deeply amusing and which reduced Hermione to the verge of tears again. She raced out of the classroom on the bell, leaving half her things behind; Harry, deciding that Hermione’s need was greater than Ron’s at the moment, scooped up her remaining possessions and followed her out. Lavender hanging onto Ron passed by you, giggling, you were left behind by all of your friends. 

‘Nice hair, _Jones_.’ you heard Draco’s voice next to you, somehow you could _hear_ him smirking. By the end of the class, the numerous attempts at transfiguration had left your hair bright yellow. 

‘Oh, I’m sorry, I must have missed your masterful transfiguration, _Malfoy_ ’ you retorted as you waved your wand once again to transfigure your hair back to the natural chestnut brown. Both of you were now standing in the Charms corridor. 

‘Ever thought, your attitude might repel guys?’ sassed Draco, making you roll your eyes. 

‘Doesn’t work on you, does it?’ you quipped. Malfoy was taken aback by the sudden boldness and cheek in your voice. 

‘Are you flirting with me, Jones?’ Malfoy sneered, grinning. You could not believe the Slytherin’s audacity to even suggest you had any hint of interest in him, reflecting in your appalled expression. 

‘Okay, that’s just rude,’ Malfoy responded to the look you threw him, ‘I’m not _that_ disgusting looking, am I? Other girls find me attractive ...’ 

Still refusing to believe this conversation was taking place, you pursed your lips tightly in discomfort, ‘Trust me, your looks are not the problem here.’ 

‘Then what?’ 

You turned to face Malfoy to see if he was being serious, you simply could not believe he cared for your answer, however, his somber look made you believe his question was not rhetorical. 

‘Well, where to begin,’ you exhaled deeply, ‘You are disrespectful and insensitive; unbearably arrogant; you believe you’re better than everyone else; and you hang out with a _very_ questionable group of people.’ 

You paused as you saw Malfoy’s visibly dropped face, he no longer could keep up the eye contact between you two. His whole demeanor instantly changed. 

‘I-, I mean that’s how some people still perceive you … but I do believe you had changed _a lot_ since last year. You’re pretty tolerable now.’ You mustered the warmest smile you could to cheer him up, Malfoy was not too keen to hear the truth about the actions of his past. ‘Everybody can change if they want to.’ 

‘Thank you.’ Malfoy looked at you, his grey eyes somehow seemed full of light and appreciation. Your eyes lingered to his sharp-pointed cheekbones and you caught yourself wondering what they would feel like under your touch. Terrified from your thoughts you sharply looked away, embarrassed. 

‘You’re welcome,’ you mumbled back quickly, ‘See you later, Malfoy.’ 

The time before dinner you spent practicing eyebrow transfiguration you so miserably failed earlier in the day. Your hair went through the entire color spectrum before you successfully made one of your eyebrows turn faintly orange. Now, however, you were faced with a different problem, you could not transfigure it back. Frantically waving your wand again and again with no luck, you shamefully approached one of the seven years for help, who thankfully was able to restore the color symmetry to your face. With your eyebrows perfectly brown, you finally joined the rest of your friends at dinner. 

Harry was sitting next to Ron and Lavender, while Hermione was sitting alone, a long way along the table, playing with her stew. You decided that she needed you more than the guys right now. 

‘Hey, Hermione, excited for the party tonight?’ you said cheerfully, taking a seat next to her. She met your question with a smile. 

‘Yes, I’m meeting Cormac at eight and we’re-’ 

There was a noise like a plunger being withdrawn from a blocked sink and Ron surfaced. Hermione acted as though she had not seen or heard anything. 

‘-we’re going up to the party together.’ 

‘Cormac? You asked, surprised. 

‘That’s right,’ said Hermione sweetly. ‘The one who _almost_ ,’ she put a great emphasis on the word, ‘became Gryffindor Keeper.’ 

‘Are you going out with him, then?’ chimed in Parvati, sitting in front of you, wide-eyed. 

‘Oh - yes - didn’t you know?’ said Hermione, with an almost un-Hermione-ish giggle. You could swear she was imitating Lavender, but you kept it to yourself, letting her continue. 

Parvati gasped, looking positively agog at this piece of gossip. ‘Wow, you like your Quidditch players, don’t you? First Krum, then McLaggen…’ 

‘I like _really good_ Quidditch players,’ Hermione corrected her, still smiling. 

You glanced over at the other side of the table where Ron looked strangely blank and said nothing. Harry caught your stare and both of you shared a concerned look. You said nothing to Hermione, left to ponder in silence the depths some girls would sink to get revenge. The dinner did not settle well in your stomach as you were more worried about your friends. You excused yourself the same time as Hermione and left to get ready for the party. 

When you exited the Hufflepuff Common Room at eight o’clock that night, you found Neville waiting outside, looking dashing in his dress robes. 

‘Your dress is so beautiful!’ Neville cried with an aw. He bowed and extended his arm offering you his hand. You smiled, and slightly blushing, bowed back wrapping your left arm over his. As two of you passed the Entrance Hall, an unusually large number of girls was lurking around, all of whom seemed to be staring at you and Neville walking up the marble staircase to the upper floors. The corridors on the sixth floor were empty at this hour, only faint sounds of laughter, music, and conversations heard as you approached Slughorn’s office. 

Slughorn must have used magical trickery to make it so because his office seemed much larger than at the regular Slug Club dinners. The ceiling and walls had now been draped with emerald, crimson, and gold hangings so that it looked as though you were all inside a vast tent. The room was crowded and stuffy and bathed in the red light cast by an ornate golden lamp dangling from the center of the ceiling in which real fairies were fluttering, each a brilliant speck of light. Loud singing accompanied by what sounded like mandolins issued from a distant corner; a haze of pipe smoke hung over several elderly warlocks deep in conversation, and a number of house-elves were negotiating their way squeakily through the forest of knees, obscured by the heavy silver platters of food they were bearing, so that they looked like little roving tables. 

‘Jean, my goodness, don’t you look just as beautiful as your mother!’ boomed Slughorn, almost as soon as you and Neville squeezed in through the door. The Potions master was wearing a tasseled velvet hat to match his smoking jacket. Gripping your arm tightly, Slughorn led you purposefully into the party; you seized Neville’s hand and dragged him along with you. 

Slughorn led you to a group of people, Harry and Luna among the crowd. ‘I’d like you to meet Eldred Worple, an old student of mine, author of _Blood Brothers: My Life Among the Vampires_ \- and, of course, his friend Sanguini.’ 

Worple, who was a small, bespectacled man, grabbed your hand and shook it weakly; the vampire Sanguini, who was in comparison, tall and emaciated with dark shadows under his eyes, merely nodded. He looked rather bored. A gaggle of girls was standing close to him, looking curious and excited. 

You exchanged a look with Harry who seemed to be just as uncomfortable as you. 

‘We’re going to join our friend, sorry.’ 

Harry pulled Luna after him into the crowd, you and Neville promptly followed. You saw where Harry was heading, you too catching caught a glimpse of a long mane of brown hair disappearing between what looked like two members of the Weird Sisters. 

Hermione looked distinctly disheveled, rather as though she had just fought her way out of a thicket of Devil’s Snare. 

‘What’s happened to you?’ Harry asked. 

‘Oh, there you are, thank goodness! Hi, Luna! Jean, Neville, you two look lovely!’ Hermione was trying to catch her breath. 

‘I’ve just escaped - I mean I’ve just left Cormac.’ she continued. ‘Under the mistletoe,’ she added in explanation, as four of you continued to look questioningly at her. 

‘You should go enjoy yourself, guys, I need to speak to Hermione,’ said Harry, waving you and Neville away. You guessed from the tone of his voice that conversation is not going to be pleasant. 

Grabbing a goblet of mead from the roving table passing by, you made your way deeper into the room. Cormac pushed past you, bumping your shoulder, and disappearing towards the other side of the room without an apology. 

‘Rude.’ you mumbled to yourself. 

The Holiday music tunes switched to something resembling a waltz. Overwhelmed with joy, you pulled Neville with you to the middle of the room. If you remembered correctly from the fourth year, Neville was a wonderful dancer, and you were able to test it. 

You gently put your hand on his shoulder, he softly grabbed your waist pulling you closer, perfectly synchronized your feet moved on the beat. The lights around the room were twinkling with every step as the two of you spun in small delicate circles, the crystal embroidery on your icy blue dress reflecting the lights in slight glitters. 

You were so lost in the moment you did not hear the amazed oohs and aahs coming from the crowd around, the two of you were not the only couple dancing, but it sure seemed like it to the rest of the guests. When the music stopped, and a new song began to play, you were pulled from the moment by scattered applause. 

Excused yourself to Neville, you walked away in hopes to find some hors d'oeuvres or something more substantial, while he was quickly asked for another dance by one of Slughorn’s guests. Seemingly out of nowhere you were scooped up by Slughorn, his face very red, his velvet hat a little askew, a glass of mead in another hand. 

‘Come, come, Jean!’ hiccoughed Slughorn happily. ‘I was just telling Severus here about your exceptional potion-making! Some credit must go to him, of course, he taught you for five years!’ 

Snape was standing in front of him, dressed in black dress robes, looking mildly irritated. To his right, stood Joon, Pansy hanging on his arm; and by his left arm - Draco and Zabini. Slytherins gather in groups, as usual, you thought. 

‘I believe I didn’t teach Miss Jones any differently than the rest of her class.’ Snape’s looked down at you, his black eyes narrowed. 

‘Well, then, it’s natural ability!’ shouted Slughorn, you were getting increasingly uncomfortable with his arm still around your shoulders, ‘You should have seen what she gave me, first lesson, the Draught of Living Death, actually her and Harry! Never had a student produced finer on a first attempt, imagine that Severus, two students at once! 

‘ _Potter_?’ said Snape sharply, 'I never had the impression that I managed to teach Potter anything at all.’ His remarks generated chuckles from the Slytherins around him. 

‘They both are such marvels!’ Slughorn boomed, the crack in his voice gave away the amount of fire whiskey he had consumed. He looked around after hearing his name, and letting go of you, hurried away. Free from Professor, you fixed the sleeves of your dress, and suddenly came with a realization that you were still in the presence of the four Slytherins who were now staring at you. You looked up with a smile, hiding the utter horror inside. Joon was the only wizard among the four dressed in a more traditionally muggle looking tuxedo, with an elongated blazer and high collar on the dress shirt, the rest were sporting the almost identical dress robes, differing only in color. 

‘Nice party, huh?’ you spoke first, breaking the silence. 

‘Nice of you to babysit Longbottom.’ snickered Pansy, pressing herself closer against Joon. Snape, who looked even more annoyed than he did a minute ago, took off without a word. 

‘You look gorgeous, Jean,’ softly said Joon, smiling, your stomach suddenly twisted, making you force a smile back. Pansy who was smugly laughing just a second ago, looked at Joon sharply, and then back at you angry and offended. Malfoy’s face grimaced in annoyance. 

‘Well, I’m starving so I’ll leave you guys to it,’ you left the group, walking towards one of the house-elves carrying a tray of enormous mince pies you were determined to have. 

‘You clean up nicely, Jones.’ your daydreaming of taking a bite of one of the tourtiere was rudely interrupted by the Malfoy who nowadays seemed to follow you everywhere you went. 

‘Malfoy, whatever it’s you want, _spill it out_. I’m not about to miss out on some pies.’ You snapped sharply, approaching the tray and quickly snatching a meat pastry before the house-elf disappeared out of your sight. 

You walked over to the corner of the room, away from the crowd, Malfoy followed you again. Your eyes twinkled with excitement as you took a bite, the savory meaty flavor spread in your mouth, making you close your eyes in satisfaction. 

‘You’re ridiculous, Jones.’ Malfoy laughed, observing you devouring the pie in your hands, ‘You’re so bloody beautiful-’ 

You almost choked on the piece in your mouth as you looked at Draco, confused, and coughing. Your surprised expression was met with a look of horror on Draco’s face as he surely did not think before blurting out the last sentence. 

‘I-, I mean …’ Malfoy did not know what to say to recover from this situation. He looked frozen, his eyes looking around as in hopes to find some kind of excuse or explanation. 

‘Who is flirting with who now, Malfoy?’ you giggled, finding the encounter the most amusing. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, and tagging a strain of the loose hair behind your ear, looked at the Slytherin again, ‘I won’t tell anyone Draco Malfoy thinks I look beautiful, relax.’

Draco did not move as you took a step to walk away, only to be stopped by his outstretched arm blocking your way. Clearly, you thought, he did not believe you and likely wanted to scare you into keeping your mouth shut. But as you were about to open your mouth, his head tilted backward, his eyes looking up above you. Puzzled, you looked up yourself - unbeknown to you, you walked over to stand straight underneath a bunch of mistletoe. The situation was getting uncomfortable, as Malfoy was not saying anything, his gaze trailed back to you, his grey stormy eyes piercing your blues. For a moment you were hypnotized by how close his handsome face was to yours, how his eyes kept trailing down to look at your nose, your lips, your collarbones. 

‘There you are!’ Neville’s cheerful voice brought you back to reality, you turned to face him as he approached with a smile. 

‘Oh, sorry, did I interrupt something?’ Neville stopped just before he could see the mistletoe, which was obstructed from his view by one of the chandeliers. Before Neville could see who you were with, Malfoy turned to face away from the Gryffindor. 

‘No, no, Neville, it’s okay. I’ll be there in a minute! Can you grab me some pumpkin pastries?’ you spluttered, hoping to make him walk away. Fortunately, he nodded and hurried back into the crowd to fetch for some dessert. 

‘I think I-’ you began but Draco quickly grabbed your hand, dragging you behind one of the curtains, hiding the two of you from prying eyes. 

‘You _are_ so bloody beautiful, Jones …’ he whispered, gathered up the courage, his breath on your skin. Your cheeks violently blushed, making your freckles pop out as if on a fawn. 

‘Wha-what’re you doing?’ you quivered as his hand wrapped around your waist. 

‘I’m going to kiss you.’ he leaned over, looking for any signs of protest or fear in your face, he did not see any. 

His lips softly pressed against yours, drawing you into a gentle yet passionate kiss. You wanted to pull away, act scandalized and shocked but you could not bring yourself to, your senses had been seduced and you could no longer think straight. Your hands wandered on their own, reaching to wrap around his neck, Draco arms tightly encircled you, pressing your bodies closer. Due to your inexperience, he led the way - slanting your head further, deepening the kiss. Your brain lit on fire and the warmth spread throughout your entire body, sending butterflies to your chest. When you broke apart for air, you looked at him shy, your mind cloudy from what just happened. 

'I don’t think your date would like this,’ you joked, smiling. 

‘The only person I wanted to invite, was already going with someone else.’ Draco's lips curled up, he was still holding you tightly in his arms. 

‘Pansy?’ you quipped, making Draco laugh. 

‘For someone so smart, you, sure, are dense sometimes.’ He whispered before landing yet another soft kiss on your lips. 

The full realization of what was happening came crashing down on you, you felt embarrassed. You completely forgot that you were mere meters away from crowds of people who could stumble upon the two of you at any second. The thought of being found out made you quickly pull away from Malfoy’s embrace. Now with anxiety running circles in your mind, you did not know what to say or how to act. 

'I-' you said, voice cracking, 'I think I should go. Neville must be waiting ...' 

Draco hesitantly but obediently let go, you straightened your dress to make sure nothing looked askew. Malfoy reached to grab your hand but you pulled away, hurrying to leave from under the curtain. As you were crossing the room to make it to the exit, the wave of anxiety plummeted through your body with great force, weakening your knees and pushing down on your chest. Briefly catching Neville's gaze you motioned him about your departure. Among the loud conversations and music, you were able to slip out unnoticed, breaking into a run in the corridor, down the stairs, down to the dungeons.


	12. The Ministry

The following morning the students who had chosen to go home for the Holidays crowded up at the Entrance Hall to make their way to the Hogsmeade Station. Hogwarts Express was to take you back to London at nine in the morning sharp. Packed up your trunks and securing Jiji in a traveling basket, you alongside your friends were shepherded by Hagrid away from the castle. The tension between Ron and Hermione seemed to have peaked, the two kept a ten-meter distance, not even looking at each other. While Harry and Neville walked alongside Ron, you and Mina kept Hermione company.

‘Are you going to visit the Burrow during the break?’ you asked quietly. Hermione glared at you with annoyance, you instantly knew the answer to that question. 

The train ride was quiet. You opted to stick with Hermione who joined a compartment with Luna, a couple of other Gryffindors, and Hannah Abbott. You gazed out of the window for the majority of the way. Everything outside was covered by a thick blanket of snow as the train passed by the plains, trees, and villages. Nature was dressed for the holidays. 

‘I heard you went to Slughorn’s party with Neville,’ Hannah asked you, drawing your attention from the window. 

‘Yeah, I did.’ you said looking over at her. 

‘Are-are you guys dating?’ she wondered nervously. 

‘No, no, we’re just friends. Very platonic, trust me.’ you explained, turning away again. You did not hear Hannah’s response but by the cheery tone in her voice chatting with Hermione, you could tell she was happy with your answer. 

Upon arrival, you barely had time to find Harry, Ron, and Neville to wish them a Happy Christmas before your mother scooped you up into a warm hug the second you stepped down onto the platform. Little Hannah could not stop giggling when you picked her up onto your arms, even Ian was clinging into your coat tightly. The Jones siblings were back together again. 

You could smell the roasted duck your mother prepared the moment you entered through the front door, the home felt cozy and welcoming as ever. The big four-meter Christmas tree with a hefty mountain of presents underneath was already decorated and stood grandly near the fireplace, the rest of the house was equally elegantly dressed in garlands, wreaths, smaller Christmas trees, table decorations, and abundance of candles. 

‘We’re going on a Michael Bublé lockdown until Christmas, suckers!’ screamed Mina, putting the desired album to play through the house audio system. The smooth baritone accompanied the rest of the holidays from that moment on. 

‘Christmas is no Christmas without listening to Santa Buddy, you’re so right,’ you smirked, sitting down for dinner. 

The first thing your mother wanted to know was the Slughorn’s party, the mention of which caused a blush to sear through your cheeks, radiating heat to your whole face as you smiled and told her about the affair, omitting certain events that transpired. Whether she sensed your nervousness or she somehow just _knew_ , Mina gave you a curious look, repeatedly glancing at you strangely throughout the entire meal. 

Your father arrived the next day, bringing multiple suitcases full of presents from Korea, his mood uncharacteristically upbeat. As long as you could remember, the times you saw your father, his mind was always preoccupied with work, the look of worry and concentration never left his face. Now, however, he looked relaxed and laid-back. You were not the only one to notice him acting unnaturally cheery, Mina and Ian whispered among themselves looking concerned. The first theory of someone replacing your father was quickly debunked by his otherwise normal behaviour, and after interrogating him with various family trivia, the three of you were certain it was indeed him. Your mother was beaming with happiness as the family was finally all together at once. 

The day before Christmas you knew something was up - your mother and father kept walking away to different rooms to whisper to each other. They looked at each other excitedly as if they were planning something in secret. Your intuition did not deceive you, the big announcement followed at dinner. 

‘I stepped down from my position as the Minister of Magic,’ your father revealed to everyone’s shock. Your mom exploded with excitement, tightly squeezing her husband in an embrace. 

‘I've left my post to take up a position here.’ He further explained, observing the persisting confusion in his kids’ faces. ‘I will be leading the Department of International Magical Cooperation.’ 

‘As in _here_? In _London_?’ you did not fully comprehend your father’s words. 

‘Isn’t that marvelous, honey! Right next to home! I’m overjoyed!’ your mother boomed, tugging on Ian’s cheek. 

You did not know what exactly that meant for your family or the Ministry of Magic, but you were happy. With your father no longer as Korean Minister of Magic, there was no need to hide his identity any longer. Your mother kept nudging your father’s elbow, implying there was more. 

‘That brings us to the best part!’ she eagerly said. ‘Our family has been invited to the Ministry’s New Years Ball! 

‘That’s hardly good news,’ mumbled Ian into your ear, you nodded in agreement. 

You were under the impression that moving from Korea brought an end to the Ministry events your family had to attend, but somehow they seemed to have followed you to Britain. It was an unpleasant realization as your mother already dragged you along to way too many balls, receptions, charity events, galas, banquets, dinners, and functions as it was, the premise of those outings increasing left you cheerless. You immediately thought about McLaggen’s uncle and imagined the horror of meeting him and other Ministry officials in person, Slughorn was going to have a ball interrogating you at dinners. Looking over at Mina, she did not share your lack of enthusiasm and unlike you, was smiling brightly. 

The next couple of days were spent with two different moods dominating the household: you and Ian were dreading the family trip to the Ministry while your mother and Mina were excitedly discussing the upcoming event, your father was keeping a neutral stance of indifference. Regarding the party he only cared about the attire, insisting on the whole family to wear the traditional Korean dress, representing where he came from. 

‘Great, not only we are forced to attend this, but we're also gonna be ridiculed for wearing “weird Muggle clothes”.’ Ian cried in protest laying on the couch next to the Christmas tree. 

‘Relax, you and dad will hardly stand out from others.’ said Mina, trying to reason with the ten-year-old. While you agreed that men’s Hanbok indeed looked similar to the wizard dress robes, you were still averse to wearing something so uncommon to the place run by prejudices and elitism. 

‘Do you think Draco is going to be there?’ Mina asked with a sly smile. You looked at her in horror, busy worried about the stupid clothes, it completely slipped your mind that Malfoy's family was most likely going to attend. 

‘I-I don’t know, maybe.’ you muttered, averting your gaze from hers. 

‘I can’t believe it! I knew it!’ suddenly squeaked Mina, jumping from the couch and pointing her finger at you. Ian looked at her confused, whilst the utter panic grew inside you. 

‘You are _sooo_ busted! I knew something was going on between you two! I could _sense_ it.’ In one leap Mina hopped to stand right in front of you, forcefully digging her finger into your chest. 

‘Quit it!’ you weakly pushed her away. ‘Nothing is going on between me and Malfoy! I hate him, okay?’ you shrieked. 

‘You’re such a liar! Liar!’ screamed Mina, who began to throw the couch pillows at you. 

‘You don’t know what you’re talking about! Nothing is going on between us!’ you yelled back, dodging the cushions flying your way. 

‘Stop it, you two!’ Ian jumped to stand between you two, intercepting the flying projectiles thrown by Mina. All the commotion attracted the attention of your mother who stormed down the stairs and ran into the living room with a worried look on her face. 

‘ _What’s in Merlin's name going on here_ ?’ 

‘ _Nothing_!’ you and Mina shouted in unison. 

Sent to your room, you were glad to avoid the further accusations thrown at you. _Nothing was going on between you and Malfoy_. Because you were not going to let anything happen. You convinced yourself that the two of you were from two different worlds, nothing connected you, nothing could happen because it would simply not work. Your internal turmoil was interrupted by the buzzing on your nightstand, not having your phone in almost four months, it felt like a foreign object. 

_서준아: Heard about your dad. Exciting news!_ flashed on the lock screen. 

Appalled by Joon’s nonchalant text, you threw your phone on the bed. Deciding to not dignify it with a response, you went to take a shower instead. When you returned, there was yet another notification. 

_서준아: I really miss you, can we talk?_

You unlocked your phone and began to type furiously. 

_I feel like I’ve already told you everything I wanted to say. So it’s best that we don’t._

 _And I don’t think Pansy is going to appreciate you talking to me_. 

You fell asleep not waiting for a reply and woke up to find out that Joon never sent it at all. At breakfast, Mina hardly looked at or talked to you, and she purposefully refused to hand a plate of fruit when it was passed around the table. The immense feeling of guilt overwhelmed you, Malfoy was the guy who left her devastated and depressed for months. He was her first crush and somehow you believed she was still into him despite everything. The deep devotion to rightfulness sent your consciousness into a frenzy, hiding the truth from your sister made your stomach turn, guilt haunting your core. After the meal, you barged into her room with full intention to do what is right, even if it was going to destroy the relationship between the two of you. 

‘Listen to me and don’t speak,’ you said purposefully, interrupting Mina’s incoherent protests. You proceeded to tell what actually happened at Slughorn’s party and why you were acting strangely. 

‘But I want you to know that it doesn’t change anything and nothing is going to happen between us-’ 

‘Why?’ Mina interrupted you, to your surprise she looked neither angry nor resentful. 

‘ _What do you mean why_?’ 

‘Why nothing is going to happen between you? It looks to me that you like him, and he fancies you.’ Mina’s question shocked you, leaving you searching for words. 

‘Well, for once, you are in l-love with him?’ you said nervously. 

Mina suddenly threw herself backward in the chair, bursting into a loud cackle of laughter. Her body was shaking as she was holding into her stomach, tears pooling in her eyes. You stood by the door, baffled, a mixture of annoyance and confusion expanding inside. 

‘I don’t _love_ Draco,’ she said, breaking the laughter. ‘Did you think I got angry at you because I’m in love with him?’ 

You nodded and she proceeded to laugh again. 

‘I got angry at you because you lied to me. I tell you _everything_ and you always hide things from me!’ 

‘I’m sorry.’ you apologized, the feeling of guilt not leaving you, ‘I-I just wanted to protect your feelings, I didn’t want you to hate me.’ 

‘For a person who obtained ten O.W.L.s., you sure are _dumb_.’ she said calmly, spinning in a chair. ‘I mean, Malfoy is super hot, but it doesn’t mean I fall in love with every guy I find attractive, duh.’ 

‘There’s no need to call me dumb.’ you blurted, irritated. ‘So, you don’t care?’ 

‘No, I do _care_ , trust me. The whole idea of _you_ and _Malfoy_ dating, sounds like a perfect gossip. But I just don’t think it’s going to happen. Mostly because you’re a _wimp_.’ Mina crossed arms under her chest and looked at you, smirking. 

You hated the fact that your sister was right, you were scared to even think about the repercussions of you and Draco seeing each other. None of your friends, especially Harry would approve, you could not even imagine your father’s reaction. You were trying to convince yourself that it was merely a crush and by the time you return to Hogwarts, it would be gone. Yet, you still had to potentially face him at the Ministry Ball, the prospect made you break out in cold sweat. 

New Years' Eve you felt as if your heart was going to jump out of your chest, you were anxious from the moment you woke up and the realization settled in. The Hanbok your mother had chosen for you was already hanging on the door, the necessary accessories laid on the vanity. The top of the dress was a beautiful periwinkle with cream trimmings on the collar and sleeves; the skirt was a delicate pink rose, elegant small cream flowers embroidered on the outer layer of the tulle. Fully dressed, your mother came in to help you braid, tie, and pin your hair, finishing up with flower pins. She also made sure to secure a Norigae to hang from the skirt - a traditional accessory consisting of the main butterfly ornament, elaborate knots, and tassels at the end. Your mother was wearing a matching to your father’s blue and white Hanbok with cream trimmings, Mina’s was dressed in pink and lavender, Hannah and Ian were sporting pastel yellows and blues respectively. 

‘If anything, pretend you don’t speak English,’ jested Ian, as the entire family gathered in the living room, ready to Apparate. It was not the first time you had to Apparate along-side your parents, but it was still far from a pleasant activity to be put through. 

In an instant, you were standing on a highly polished, black marble floor. The atrium of the Ministry of Magic was transformed into a ballroom - tables set by the perimeter. Halfway down the hall was a fountain. A group of golden statues, larger than life-size, stood in the middle of a circular pool. Tallest of them all was a noble-looking wizard with his wand pointing straight up in the air. Grouped around him were a beautiful witch, a centaur, a goblin, and a house-elf. The last three were all looking adoringly up at the witch and wizard. Glittering jets of water were flying from the ends of the two wands, the point of the centaur's arrow, the tip of the goblin's hat, and each of the house-elf's ears so that the tinkling hiss of falling water was added to the chatter and music around. You found the imagery disturbing, in your opinion, it portrayed the worst of the wizarding world - the belief that wizards were above all other creatures. These prejudiced and elitist sentiments were shared among many within the Ministry and beyond. 

The arrival of your family did not pass unnoticed, it seemed the entire room turned around to look at the six of you. 

‘Anyone had “the whole room stares at us” on their Ministry Ball bingo?’ sassed Ian. 

‘No, but I just crossed out “I wish I wasn’t here”.’ you retorted, following your father to where Rufus Scrimgeour was greeting all newly arrived guests. The new Minister of Magic was a tall man with streaks of grey in his tawny hair and bushy eyebrows, his keen yellowish eyes behind a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles narrowed when he saw your dad approaching. Kingsley Shacklebolt, the head of Aurors was standing next to him, smiling at you warmly. 

‘Ah, Mr. Jung, welcome, welcome. We at the Ministry are looking forward to seeing your expertise at work.’ said Scrimgeour, grasping your father’s held out hand. 

Both of your parents proceeded around the room with Scrimgeour who insisted on introducing your father to all the _important people_ , leaving the four of you to socialize by yourselves. You, as the oldest, was in charge. 

‘So here is the plan, boys and girls,’ you said, gathering everyone in a semicircle, ‘I’m heading straight to the buffet, or whatever they have here, Hannah with me. You two - do whatever, I don’t care.’ 

Scooped up Hannah, you headed deeper into the room. 

‘Jean!’ you heard a familiar voice as you were forcing your way through the throng. You turned around to see Mr. Weasley practically hopping towards you, a broad smile on his face. 

‘Such a fascinating dress! Is this a Muggle invention?’ he boomed. ‘And this has to be little Hannah.’ He crouched slightly, his head at the same level as your sister’s, whom you were holding in your arms. 

‘Say, hi, Hannah.’ you smiled, waving at Mr. Weasley to demonstrate the motion to repeat. She, however, just giggled and hid her face in your shoulder. 

‘I miss when my children were this small _and_ were too young to cause any problems.’ He laughed, ‘Too bad only Percy came today.’ 

Mr. Weasley walked you over to the food table while listening to the explanation of the culture and origin of Hanbok. He was captivated, asking various questions about the Korean traditions and how Muggles live over on the other side of the planet. The conversation did not last long, after a few minutes he had to leave to find Mrs. Weasley. The short while after he disappeared in the crowd, your mother had emerged to take Hannah off your hands. 

‘Are you having fun, sweetie?’ she asked. 

‘It’s been alright, I hope the food is good.’ you said, looking over the assortment of appetizers and hors d'oeuvres. She kissed your forehead and vanished back into the crowd, now with your sister. Piling up a mountain on a plate, you retired to a corner of the room to avoid socializing. From there you tried to take in the busy room in front of you. The flurry of movement and color made it difficult to concentrate on anything - people were dancing, laughing, enjoying themselves. It was hard to recognize anyone in the crowd, so you quickly gave up, focusing on the food instead. 

‘Do you just go to parties to eat?’ a snarky voice drawled. Your heart almost stopped as you looked up to see Draco. 

‘Eat and dance …’ you quietly confirmed. Malfoy leaned on the wall next to you. 'How did you find me?' you asked. 

‘I saw your father parading around with the Minister, thought I would find you near the food table.' he said, smirking. 

You did not respond, a painfully long silence fell upon the conversation. 

Finally, Draco pushed himself off the wall and took a step closer to you. His haughty good looks were accentuated by the black form-fitting dress robes, pearl white low cut vest, and a white bowtie, his hair slicked back neatly. 

‘May I have this dance?’ he held out his hand. You did not take Malfoy to be a dancing type but his charm lured you in, and you could not say no. You put your hand in his, he tightly gripped it and led you away to the dance floor. 

‘I think I liked the other dress better on you.’ he whispered as he spun you into his arms, placing his hand on your lower back. 

‘It’s a traditional dress from where my father is from.’ you said following Draco’s lead, the two of you moved gracefully along with the music. Spinning around, you looked at the crowd, too shy and embarrassed to bring your eyes to Malfoy’s face. 

‘It doesn’t quite show off your body as the other one did.’ he murmured, making your head snap back to look at him, flustered. He wanted your attention on him, he needed to see your eyes again, to see your reaction to his words. 

‘You forget yourself, Draco …’ you whispered forcefully. 

‘Only took a kiss for you to call me by my name.’ he dipped you, grinning. You looked up at him irritated and blushing. 

'You're so full of yourself.' you said sharply. 

Draco leaned in closer, his mouth almost on your ear, ' _you like it_.' 

'You're unbearable.' you said rolling your eyes and sighing in frustration. Malfoy was fully enjoying your back-and-forth, he winked at you, smirking. 

‘Jean-ah!’ Ian’s high-pitched voice piped through the music. Malfoy let go as you turned around to see where the sound was coming from. Ian was running towards the two of you in between the dancing couples. 

‘Sorry to ruin the moment here, but we need to go. _Now_!’ he blurted in one exhale. You did not get a chance to respond or say anything to Draco before your brother dragged you across the hall, back to the entrance fireplaces. Mina and Hannah were holding your mother’s hands, who looked frantic. 

‘What happened? Where is dad?’ you said, worried. 

‘There has been an accident at our house, your father has left to deal with it. I’m going to take you to grandma and grandpa. Hold onto me tightly and don’t let go!’ Your mother's voice tried to sound assertive and even but you could still hear the notes of panic and uncertainty. 

The next second you ended up in the middle of your grandparents’ living room. 

‘Owena, kids! Here, here!’ your grandmother ran up to take Hannah off your mother’s arms. 

‘I’ll come to get you later, listen to your grandma and grandpa.’ your mother took turns to give each one of you a kiss on the forehead, and as soon as she was done, she Disapparated. 

With no news regarding what happened until the next morning, you were left to spend the New Years in the most tense and most anxiety-inducing atmosphere of your life. For the next two hours before bed, your grandfather tried to distract the four of you by playing the Mario Party, but neither one of you put in enough effort to complete even a single play-through. Exhausted from the stress and worry, and with the help of the Sleeping Draught prepared by your grandmother, the four of you fell asleep before the clock even struck twelve. When you woke up the next day, your mother was already back. 

It was unclear what exactly took place that night at your family home, but an attempt to break in was made. Like many of the other houses of witches and wizards, yours was charmed both against the Muggle intervention and the Dark Arts. When the introducers failed to breach the magic barriers, they opted in setting the neighboring structures ablaze. According to your mother, three houses were almost entirely burnt down, leaving the team from the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes to modify the memories of all the Muggles who saw what happened, as well as repairing the damages done to the properties. The team of Obliviators was working on the incident for the next couple of days, making sure to get everyone in the neighborhood. From the limited recollections and evidence gathered, one thing was certain - it was a doing of Dark magic. 

Although new, stronger barrier charms were placed on your house, it no longer felt safe. For the rest of the week until your departure back to Hogwarts, you kept waking up in the middle of the night from the lightest of noises. As your father officially set up at the Ministry, a group of Aurors was stationed around your house while the arrangements of relocation were being made. 

With everything going and despite your parents' assurances, you felt uneasy leaving for King’s Cross station on Saturday morning.


	13. A Change of Heart

For the first time in your life, your father was to see you off to Hogwarts. It was a strange reality to you, something to get used to. Whether it was his serious demeanor or the two Aurors by his side, people on the platform curiously stared, whispering to each other. The superfluous attention your family was getting made you uncomfortable, quickly saying goodbye, you hurried to board the train. 

It seemed everyone with any ties to the Ministry knew about your father’s newly appointed position, including Harry and Ron who bombarded you with questions immediately after they pulled you into their compartment. Mr. Weasley was not a useful source of information: he refused to comment on the Ministry deeds, thus leaving two of them to interrogate you in person. To their dismay, you did not know any more than they already read from the _Daily Prophet_. The conversation quickly shifted to the incident at your house, which you had no desire to discuss or relive through. Wishing to join Hermione instead and with Lavender bursting in to see her ‘Won-Won’ ten minutes into the ride, you quickly abandoned Harry and Ron to escape the unwanted gossip.

It seemed Hermione chose to sit as far from Harry and Ron’s compartment as possible, walked through three carriages, you could not find her anywhere. Many of the compartments’ privacy screens were shut, lowering your chances to be able to find her at all. You were about to turn around and drag yourself back to join Harry in the uncomfortable misery that was Brown and Weasley's presence, but suddenly the door of the compartment to your left opened up, and someone drew you inside. 

Not being able to fully realize what happened, you were pulled into a hug. The strong arms wrapped around you tightly, you did not need to look up to know who they belonged to. Intoxicating, musky notes of cardamom and dark wood coated your senses, leaving you breathless. Unable to pull away, you melted into his touch. 

‘I was worried,’ Draco’s soft whisper tickled your ear. He pulled away slightly to look at you. 

‘I-I’m okay,’ you said weakly. You hated to admit that you were lost in his eyes, not able to look away. Your whole being was taken by Slytherin's presence, captivated by him. 

‘I was just about to send a first-year to fetch you from _Potter’s_ arms.’ he spoke, his dislike of Harry evident in his voice. ‘I saved us a compartment so we could talk, away from _him_ and others.’ 

You weakly nodded, not surprised Malfoy was able to scare anyone attempting to take the compartment away. 

'You know, all my life I've got everything I ever wanted,' he spoke calmly, 'but I can’t seem to get one thing I desire the most- ' His hand reached to softly touch your cheek. 

'Don't ...' you said in a hushed whisper, shaking your head. 

‘You can’t run from this forever,’ he squeezed your hand tightly. 

‘That’s what you think.’ you muttered, causing Draco to smile. 

‘Jean,’ your name rolled off his tongue in a purr, making your heart skip a beat. ‘I know, I am disrespectful, arrogant, insensitive, everything they say I am. But with you… _it’s different_.’ He proclaimed, his eyes piercing yours. ‘You are so- … when I look into your eyes, I lose myself, and I want to be better. _For you_.’ He brought your hand to his lips, landing a soft, gentle kiss on the back of it, handling you so delicately, as if you were to break under his touch. He was afraid to cause any harm. 

The air left your lungs, Draco’s confession made it hard to breathe, you felt feverish. Despite convincing yourself prior that it was a simple crush and nothing more, you were failing to find the strength to push him away. You desperately wanted this moment to last longer, you were afraid of leaving this compartment and never feeling the way you felt when you were with him. 

‘When I heard about what happened,’ he continued, suddenly pulling away and facing the window. ‘Just thought of losing you was more than I could bear.’ His fists clenched, his jaw tense. 

You looked at him, your heart flattered, butterflies flooded your stomach. You did not know if you were stupid for believing Draco but you could not help the way you felt. Although your mind was telling you to not listen, to run away before it was too late, your heart pushed you towards him. You threw your arms around Malfoy, hugging him tightly from behind. 

‘You don’t need to lose me.’ You blurted out not thinking about the consequences. 

In one motion he turned around to scoop you up onto his arms, spinning you round in the air. Putting you down, his hand nested below your ear, while the other drifted to your back, pulling you closer. You felt your blush deepen under his tender gaze, he smiled, his eyes taking in yours with silent intensity. You shut your eyes as his lips captured yours, instantly your brain lit on fire, obliterating your every thought, sparks flying in every direction. You could feel a smile growing on his face, he pulled away. 

‘I could die now.’ he whispered dreamily, his forehead pressed to yours. His comment made you giggle. 

‘You’ve gone soft, _Malfoy_ ,' you smiled. 

‘Well, you have to deal with it, _Jones_.’ He smirked back. He sat down next to the window, pulling you to join him. 

Malfoy rested his head on your lap as you stroke his hair and laughed trying to imagine Harry’s and others’ reactions if they ever found you out. Despite being so intimate, you did not feel shy or awkward like you had before in Joon’s company. It felt natural being next to Draco, holding his hand as he was telling you about his excitement to have you by his side. However, although you were able to be together carefree within the walls of the train compartment, you both agreed that the two of you could not afford to parade around the school holding hands, your relationship was to gradually be eased onto the rest of the students. 

Arriving at Hogsmeade, Draco kissed you before he left the compartment to join the rest of the sixth-year Slytherins. You, on the other hand, left to join Harry who escaped from Ron and Lavender to join Neville and Luna. The four of you took the carriage back to Hogwarts together. 

At dinner, you carefully glanced over at the Slytherin’s table, catching Malfoy’s glances across the Great Hall, blushing with his every smile in your direction. Busy preparing for the classes the following week, you spent the rest of the weekend in your room, leaving only for breakfast and dinner. 

The new term started with a pleasant surprise for the sixth-years: a large sign had been pinned to the common-room notice boards overnight. 

_APPARITION LESSONS_

_If you are seventeen years of age or will turn seventeen on or before 31st August, you are eligible for a twelve-week course of Apparition Lessons from a Ministry of Magic Apparition instructor._

_Please sign below if you would like to participate._

_Cost: 12 Galleons._

You joined the crowd that was jostling around the notice and taking it in turns to write their names underneath. The apparition was a hot topic among all sixth-years. Caught up with Harry, Hermione, and Ron whom you were surprised to see without Lavender by his side, it was brought up almost immediately. 

‘So - Apparition,’ said Ron, ‘Should be a laugh, eh?’ 

‘I dunno,’ you said. ‘Maybe it’s better when you do it yourself, I don’t enjoy it much when my parents take me along for the ride.’ 

‘When can we take the actual test?” Harry asked. 

‘Soon as we’re seventeen, That’s only March for me!’ whined Ron. 

‘Yeah, but you wouldn’t be able to Apparate in here, not in the castle…’ chimed in Hermione dryly. 

‘Not the point, is it? Everyone would know I could Apparate if I wanted.’ he retorted. 

Ron was not the only one to be excited at the prospect of Apparition. All that week there was much talk about the forth-coming lessons; a great deal of importance was set by being able to vanish and reappear at will. 

‘How cool will it be when we can just -’ Seamus clicked his fingers to indicate disappearance. ‘Me cousin Fergus does it just to annoy me, you wait till I can do it back … he’ll never have another peaceful moment …’ 

Lost in visions of this happy prospect, he flicked his wand a little too enthusiastically, letting out a hoselike jet of water that ricocheted off the ceiling and knocked Professor Flitwick flat on his face. Falling the victim of poorly executed Aguamenti charm for the second time had sent Flitwick into a mild rage. Neville, who was standing next to you, lit up in the face. 

‘It’s not me this time,’ he chuckled, making you laugh back. Your eyes wandered to the other side of the room where the Slytherins took turns mocking Seamus who was already set with lines for his detention (‘I am a wizard, not a baboon brandishing a stick’). Draco, among them, looked over and winked at you, making you look around to make sure nobody saw. 

He was taking longer than usual to pack even after the rest of Slytherins rushed to leave the classroom. You let Harry and the rest to go ahead, by the pretense of grabbing a word with Professor Flitwick, in reality - staying behind with Malfoy. 

‘I got something for you.’ Draco said as the two of you walked out to the corridor together. His hand slipped into the pocket of his robe and a golden ribbon tied box emerged. 

‘When did you have time to go to Honeydukes?’ you exclaimed, excited to receive more chocolates. 

‘On Sunday.’ He smiled seeing your happy reaction. ‘You're free for the rest of the day, aren’t you?’ 

You nodded. Planning to spend the rest of the day studying, you headed to the library. Draco, wishing to join you, walked alongside. 

‘Have you ever been to the library?’ you asked mockingly. 

‘Just so you know, yes.’ he replied, smirking. ‘Once or twice.’ 

With the majority of students at classes, the Hogwarts Library was empty. You and Draco took over an empty table towards the back, tucked in a corner between the bookshelves. Snape did not spare any time into the new semester to assign a hefty load of homework the day prior, so you and Draco both had work to do, including composing an essay on the defense against Inferius. You were busy scratching away with your quill when you noticed the Slytherin was staring at you, clear parchment in front of him. 

‘ _Draco_?’ 

‘Sorry, your beauty is distracting.’ he smirked. You playfully hit his shoulder, catching your hand he held into it, interlocking his fingers with yours. His gentle gaze made you blush. 

Library quickly became a place the two of you could retreat for privacy, fortunately, the N.E.W.T.s. classes’ provided more than enough workload to prevent any suspicions rising from your frequent visits. In between reading and writing, you learned about Draco, his interests, hobbies, likes. Despite the cold and haughty demeanor, he was sensual and tender with you, he adored you and it showed in his every word and movement. 

If during classes you had to keep your eyes and hands off each other, at the library you could act as a couple. Occasionally you were able to successfully avoid your friends and sneak to Hogsmeade together, hiding out at either Tomes and Scrolls, perhaps the quietest place in the whole wizarding world, or Dominic Maestro's Music Shop, an equally visitor less establishment. 

The snow melted around the school as February arrived, to be replaced by cold, dreary wetness. Purplish-grey clouds hung over the castle and a constant fall of chilly rain made the lawns slippery and muddy. The upshot of this was that the sixth-years’ first Apparition lesson, which was scheduled for a Saturday morning so that no normal lessons would be missed, took place in the Great Hall instead of in the grounds. 

That morning you could not find Draco anywhere, dismissing him to be busy or already at the class, you joined Harry and Hermione. Arrived at the Great hall, (Ron had come down with Lavender) you found that the tables had disappeared. Rain lashed against the high windows and the enchanted ceiling swirled darkly above them as they assembled in front of Professors McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick, and Sprout - the Heads of House - and a small wizard whom you took to be the Apparition Instructor from the Ministry. He was oddly colorless, with transparent eyelashes, wispy hair, and an insubstantial air, as though a single gust of wind might blow him away. 

‘Good morning,’ said the Ministry wizard, when all the students had arrived and the Head of House had called for quiet. ‘My name is Wilkie Twycross and I shall be your Ministry Apparition Instructor for the next twelve weeks. I hope to be able to prepare you for your Apparition test in this time -’ 

‘Malfoy, be quiet and pay attention!’ barked Professor McGonagall. 

Everybody looked around. Malfoy had flushed a dull pink; he looked furious as he stepped away from Crabbe, with whom he appeared to have been having a whispered argument. You glanced at Snape, who also looked annoyed, though you strongly suspected that this was less because of Malfoy’s rudeness than the fact that McGonagall had reprimanded one of his House. 

‘- by which time, many of you may be ready to take your test,’ Twycross continued, as though there had been no interruption. 

As it is usually impossible to Apparate or Disapparate within Hogwarts, Dumbledore had lifted the enchantment, purely within the Great Hall, to enable you to practice. 

‘I would like each of you to place yourselves now so that you have a clear five feet of space in front of you.’ 

There was a great scrambling and jostling as people separated, banged into each other, and ordered others out of their space. The Heads of House moves among the students, marshaling them into position and breaking up arguments. 

‘Harry, where are you going?’ you heard Hermione demanding. 

Not answering, Harry moved quickly through the crowd, past the place where Professor Flitwick was making squeaky attempts to position a few Ravenclaws, all of whom wanted to be near the front, past Professor Sprout, who was chivvying the Hufflepuffs into line, until, passing by you, he managed to position himself right at the back of the crowd, directly behind Draco, who was taking advantage of the general upheaval to continue his argument with Crabbe, standing five feet away and looking mutinous. 

You looked around as Malfoy continued to shoot something at Crabbe and Goyle, oblivious to Harry standing right behind him. Draco’s behavior worried you, just yesterday the two of you sat at the library, nothing seemed to worry him to the extent of disrupting a whole hall of students. Harry must have said something because the next thing you saw was Malfoy spinning around on the spot, his hand flying to his wand. At that precise moment, however, the four Heads of House shouted, ‘Quiet!’ and silence fell again. Draco turned slowly to face the front, you caught his cold, furious gaze before facing away yourself. 

‘Thank you,’ said Twycross. ‘Now then…’ He waved his wand. The old-fashioned wooden hoops instantly appeared in front of every student. 

'Always remember the three D's while Appearing!' he continued. ' _Destination_ , _Determination_ , and _Deliberation_!' 

The first step was to focus your mind firmly on the desired _destination_ \- the interior of the hoop in front of you. You looked at the circular patch of the dusty floor enclosed by the hoop and tried hard not to think of anything else. This was an impossible task as your mind kept wandering back to Draco's odd behavior. ‘Step two,’ said Twycross, ‘focus your _determination_ to occupy the visualized space! Let your yearning to enter it flood from your mind to every particle of your body!’ 

You looked around surreptitiously. Everyone looked intensely concentrated on their hoops, some so hard that it looked as though they were straining to lay an egg. 

‘Step three,’ called Twycross, ‘and only when I give the command … turn on the spot, feeling your way into nothingness, moving with _deliberation_! On my command, now … one-’ 

You were positively alarmed at being asked to Apparate so quickly, considering you failed to follow the first two steps altogether. 

‘- two -’ 

You fixed your thoughts on the hoop again, trying to retrace the instructions from the beginning; already forgetting what the three Ds stood for. 

‘- THREE!’ 

You spun on the spot, lost your balance, and nearly fell over. You were not the only one. The whole Hall was suddenly full of staggering people; Neville was flat on his back; Ernie Macmillan, on the other hand, had done a kind of pirouetting leap into his hoop and looked momentarily thrilled, until he caught sight of Dean Thomas roaring with laughter at him. You bit back a laugh yourself, returning your gaze to Twycross who seemed to not have expected anything better judging from his unamused expression. 

‘Never mind, never mind,’ he said dryly, ‘Adjust your hoops, please, and back to your original positions …’ 

The second attempt was no better than the first. The third was just as bad. Not until the fourth did anything exciting happen. There was a horrible screech of pain and you looked to your left, terrified, to see Susan Bones wobbling in her hoop with her left leg still standing five feet away from where she had started. 

The Heads of House converged on her; there was a great bang and a puff of purple smoke, which cleared to reveal Susan sobbing, reunited with her leg but looking horrified. You hastily looked away to keep the image of her severed leg out of your mind. 

‘ _Splinching_ , or the separation of random body parts,’ said Wilkie Twycross dispassionately, ‘occurs when the mind is insufficiently _determined_. You must concentrate continually upon your _destination_ , and move without haste, but with _deliberation_ … thus.’ 

Twycross stepped forwards, turned gracefully on the spot with his arms outstretched, and vanished in a swirl of robes, reappearing at the back of the Hall. 

‘Remember the three Ds,’ he said, ‘and try again … one - two - three -’ His emphasis on the three Ds was starting to irritate you, as you were failing to produce any results despite keeping your concentration solely on the bloody hoop. But even an hour later, Susan’s Splinching was still the most interesting thing that had happened. Twycross did not seem discouraged. Fastening his cloak at his neck, he merely said, ‘Until next Saturday, everybody, and do not forget-’ 

‘ _Destination_. _Determination_. _Deliberation_.’ you mockingly whispered to yourself. Twycross waved his wand, Vanishing the hoops, and walked out of the Hall accompanied by Professor McGonagall. Talk broke out at once as people began moving towards the Entrance Hall. 

You hurried towards Harry, to ask him about the conversation he overheard between the Slytherins. 

‘How did you do?’ Ron asked, getting to Harry first. ‘I think I felt something the last time I tried - a kind of tingling in my feet.’ 

‘I expect your trainers are too small, Won-Won,’ said a voice behind you, and Hermione stalked past smirking. 

‘I didn’t feel anything,’ said Harry, ignoring the interruption. ‘But I don’t care about that now -’ 

‘What d’you mean, you don’t care … don’t you want to learn to Apparate?’ said Ron, unconvinced. 

‘I’m not fussed, really. I prefer flying,’ said Harry, glancing over his shoulder to see where Malfoy was, and speeding up as they came into the Entrance Hall. ‘Look, hurry up, there’s something I want to do…’ 

‘Is everything okay, Harry?’ you asked hesitantly, following beside him, barely keeping up with his pace. 

‘Jean, come with us, put this on when no one can see,’ he took a silky piece of fabric from his pocket and quickly slipped it into your hand. 

Perplexed, you and Ron followed Harry to Gryffindor Tower at a run, taking one of trusted short cuts that also allowed you to sneakily cover yourself with a Cloak of Invisibility. Within five minutes, the three of you were climbing through the portrait hole. 

‘Are you going to tell us what we’re doing, then?’ asked Ron, panting slightly. 

‘Up here,’ said Harry, and he crossed the common room and led the way through the door to the boys’ staircase. 

Luckily their dormitory was empty and you could finally reveal yourself. Harry flung open his trunk and began to rummage in it, while you and Ron looked at each other puzzled. 

‘Harry…’ you hesitantly spoke. 

‘Malfoy’s using Crabbe and Goyle as lookouts. He was arguing with Crabbe just now. I want to know … aga.’ 

He seemed to find what he was looking for, a folded square of apparently blank parchment, which he now smoothed out and tapped with the tip of his wand. 

‘ _I solemnly swear that I am up to no good, or Malfoy is, anyway_.’ 

At once, the Marauder’s Map appeared on the parchment’s surface. Here was a detailed plan of every one of the castle floors and, moving around it, the tiny, labeled black dots that signified each of the castle’s occupants. 

‘Help me find Malfoy,’ said Harry urgently, laying the map upon his bed and leaning over it, searching. 

‘ _There_!’ said Ron, before you could even take a look. ‘He’s in the Slytherin common room, look … with Zabini and Crabbe and Goyle and Park …’ 

Harry looked down at the map, disappointed, but rallied almost at once. 

‘Harry, I know your bad blood with Malfoy, but you’re overthinking this … you don’t know what exactly they were talking about … it could have been nothing-’ 

‘Why are you so eager to defend him?’ Ron looked at you suspiciously. 

‘I’m not defending anyone, I’m just saying that _this_ might have been an overreaction.’ You defended, crossing your arms. 

‘Well, either way, he has been acting suspicious for some time now, and with the cursed necklace and whatnot, I’m keeping an eye on him from now on,’ he said firmly. ‘And the moment I see him lurking somewhere with Crabbe and Goyle keeping watch outside, I’m off to find out what he’s-’ 

He broke off as Neville entered the dormitory. 

‘Oh, Jean, what are you doing here?’ he asked, rightfully surprised to see you in the Gryffindor boys’ dormitory. 

With Neville’s arrival, all conversation regarding Malfoy was cut off. You covered yourself with the Cloak of Invisibility one more time and Harry led you out of the Gryffindor common room, onto the corridors. 

Whether or not Harry was overreacting did not matter at the moment, with him monitoring Malfoy’s every step, the two of you no longer could spend time alone. Somehow though, you still had to find a way to speak to Draco, his behaviour must have had a simple explanation and sooner you could figure it out, the faster you could explain to Harry that his worries were unnecessary. You and Draco had plans to meet up at the Astronomy tower in the evening, but appearing alone was no longer an option, you struggled to come up with ideas on how to make it work. 

‘Why can’t wizards just have phones, goddammit’ you cursed under your breath, rushing down the stairs, heading towards the Hufflepuff dungeon. 

‘You want me to do what?’ you knew your only option was to take Mina with you, both of you meeting up with Malfoy could be explained easier, not raising any unnecessary suspicion. 

‘Please, please, I’ll explain everything later, just come with me, okay?’ you were helpless-sounding, dragging your sister out of the room. 

Climbed the tower, you were pacing back and forth at the banister, nervously muttering something incoherent, in attempts to calm yourself down. Mina quietly stood slightly behind, resting her hands on the metal banister, staring at your anxious trot. Minutes turned into an hour, then two, Malfoy was yet to be seen. Your frustration was growing into paralyzing fear, your eyes glimmering with tears you tried to blink out. Draco would not simply forget to come, something must have happened, and you could not shake the dread that overcame you. The person who surely knew where Malfoy could be was Harry, you could no longer passively wait around, you needed to know he was safe. Grabbing Mina, you stormed to the Great Hall to hopefully catch the Gryffindor trio at dinner. 

You practically ran through the Entrance Hall, hastily halting in your tracks as you looked over at the Slytherin table just to see Draco Malfoy sitting next to Pansy and Zabini as if nothing was going on. Dumbfounded, you did not move, students bumping into you on their way in and out of the Great Hall. 

‘Jean, come.' Mina grabbed your arm, pulling you towards the Hufflepuff table. 

Forcefully sat down by your sister, your gaze was still fixated on Draco. You could not believe what was transpiring before your eyes: Pansy was tightly hanging onto his arm and Malfoy was letting her, whispering into her ear something with a smirk. You felt a sharp ache in your chest, you could not breathe, opening and closing your mouth, you struggled for air. Trying to come up with possible explanations, you were running short, unable to wrap your head around this sudden change in Malfoy’s behavior. You glanced back at Draco one more time, wide-eyed, you pressed your hand against your mouth to prevent yourself from screaming out. Pansy’s lips were on Draco’s - hungrily kissing him as if she tried to devour his face, he reciprocated, tagging at her shirt. The sight instantly made you sick to your stomach, you stood up and promptly walked out of the Hall, breaking into a run as soon as you reached the Entrance Hall. You cried into the pillow, trying to silence the sobs escaping your mouth. 

You were left wondering if your relationship was a prank or a sick joke. If it was, Draco did not let you or anyone else know. He was not gloating or mocking and did not participate in other Slytherin’s offensive remarks. Malfoy simply acted as if you did not exist at all, his eyes glanced over you, not once meeting yours. 

You, however, went about your days in a constant trance from the Calming Draught that you were drinking in excessive amounts to prevent yourself from crying. The following Defence Against the Dark Arts class turned out to be a great challenge in that regard. 

‘Before we start, I want your Dementor essays,’ said Snape waving his wand carelessly, so that twenty-eight scrolls of parchment soared into the air and landed in a neat pile on his desk. ‘And I hope for your sake they are better than the tripe I had to endure on defense against Inferius. Now, if you will open your books at page two hundred and ten, we will be discussing the Patronus Charm.’ 

You sat next to Harry, looking gloomier and more tired with every passing day. Potter reached out to squeeze your arm in an attempt to comfort, although not knowing what exactly turned his cheerful and upbeat friend into a mere shell of herself. 

‘Do you want to do anything today?’ he whispered hesitantly. 

‘But Potter seems to have a lot to say on the subject,’ said Snape, suddenly pointing to the two of you, his black eyes fixed on Harry. ‘Do you have something to share with the rest of the class?’ 

‘Er- well - yeah, actually.’ Harry stood up suddenly, ‘It’s Jean’s birthday. Happy Birthday, Jean!’ To your horror, he began clapping. 

Pansy Parkinson let out a high-pitched laugh. Several other Slytherins were smirking. 

Rising to their feet almost synchronized, both Hermione and Ron joined Harry in the applause, then quickly they were followed by Neville, Ernie, and others. You felt the muscles of your chin tremble as the tears burst forward, stopping short before spilling down your face. You weakly smiled, for the first time in a couple of days. 

‘Very well, Happy Birthday, Miss Jones ...’ Snape said, interrupting the applause, then continuing in a cold. sharp voice ‘Now, sit back down.’ 

Harry’s ability to conjure corporeal Patronus first went purposefully unnoticed by Snape, he passed right by him unimpressed, pursing his lips together in contempt. But after ten minutes nobody else was able to demonstrate anything better than incorporeal, to his utter annoyance, he was forced to award Gryffindor ten points. Many were able to produce some glimmers of silver, you, however, struggled to concentrate on a single happy memory, as your mind could not stop drawing back to Draco. 

‘It is an immensely complicated and extremely difficult spell, very few are able to produce any form of Patronus,’ Snape snapped coldly, narrowing his eyes at Harry who was smiling proudly. 

‘You have to muster the happiest memory you can think of, Jean. I’ve seen you succeed before. You got this!’ Harry encouraged. 

And suddenly you knew what to think about. You closed your eyes, your mind went back to hearing Hannah’s bright loud giggle when she said ‘Jeanie!’ for the first time, making your heart melt. You almost felt her clenching your finger in her hand and whacking it back and forth, hysterically laughing, as she repeated your name again and again. 

‘ _Expecto patronum!_ ’ you said confidently. And out of the end of you wand burst, not a shapeless cloud of mist, but an enormous, blinding, dazzling, silver animal. Its colossal figure encompassed almost the entire classroom, everybody gasped in awe, jumping away. The silver creature outstretched its large batlike wings, turning its head to face you. 

‘Jean’s Patronus is a bloody _DRAGON_!’ screamed Ron. 

‘Very impressive, Jones.’ smirked Snape, ‘Twenty points to Hufflepuff.’ You glanced at Harry, baffled at why your corporeal Patronus deserved ten more points than his. 

‘I never knew a dragon could be a Patronus! Wicked!’ boomed Ron, running up to you at the end of the class. 

‘None of the Slytherins came close to even producing glimmers of silver, let alone conjure a Patronus,’ Hermione smirked. 

It seemed you were the only one among your friend group to not be amused with your results. It could not simply be a coincidence that your Patronus took a shape of a _Dragon_ , anguish washed over you and you automatically reached for a vial of the Calming Draught. In a little over a month, you went from feeling like the happiest person in the world to wishing to Obliviate yourself off all memories, not knowing how to cope with your heart shattered into pieces by someone you had hated for so many years, yet was unable to learn how to hate again.


	14. Surprises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this brainchild here :D Love you all <3 Hope you enjoy this chapter. The story is finally heading to its culmination. Hopefully I can wrap this up in 5 or so chapters.

February moved towards March with no change in the weather except that it became windy as well as wet. Draco was yet to speak a word to you, continuing to ignore your existence. Distracting yourself with whatever you could, you had fully submerged yourself into the studies and the lives of your friends. Ron’s birthday was around the corner and with the next trip into Hogsmeade canceled, he was furious, giving you an opportunity to distract him.

‘Now all I’ve got to look forward to is stupid Apparition!’ said Ron grumpily. ‘Big birthday treat …’ 

Three lessons on, the apparition was proving as difficult as ever, though a few more people had managed to Splinch themselves. Frustration was running high and there was a certain amount of ill-feeling towards Wilkie Twycross and his three Ds, which had inspired a number of nicknames for him, the politest of which were Dog-breath and Dung-head. 

On March first you headed to the Gryffindor tower to meet up with Harry and the birthday boy to walk to the Great Hall together. 

As you approached you heard a loud quarrel, then saw Ron frantically trying to exit to the corridor. ‘Leave me alone,’ he shouted, pushing his way out of the portrait hole, shoving Lavender to the side, ‘Harry’s going to introduce me to Romilda Vane.’ 

Brown looked devastated as Ron stormed away with determination, Harry holding onto his arm, preventing him from getting too far. 

‘We need to go to Slughorn’s office, now.’ Harry blurted in response to your baffled expression and dragged Ron beside him. 

Following the duo to the Potion-master’s office, Harry whispered about the love potion spiked Chocolate Cauldrons Romilda Vane had given to him before Christmas and which Ron had accidentally ingested, confused it for one of his birthday presents. Fortunately, despite the early hour, Slughorn answered his office door at the first knock, wearing a green velvet dressing-gown and marching nightcap and looking rather bleary-eyed. 

‘Professor, I’m really sorry to disturb you,’ replied Harry to Slughorn’s remark that it was very early for a call and he generally slept late on Sunday, ‘but my friend Ron’s swallowed a love potion by mistake. You couldn’t make him an antidote, could you? We’d take him to Madam Pomfrey, but we’re not supposed to have anything from Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes and, you know … awkward questions …’ 

Ron at the meantime stood on tiptoe, attempting to see into the office over the professor's shoulder. 

'I've thought the two of you would be able to whip him up with a remedy, expert potioneer like Jean and yourself?' asked Slughorn. 'Er' said Harry distracted by the fact that Ron was now elbowing both of you in an attempt to force his way into the room. 

'Harry and I never had to deal with love potions before, sir.' you took over, while Harry tried to restrain Ron. 'We wanted to get him help before he could do anything stupid.' 

Helpfully, Ron chose this moment to moan, 'I don't see her, Harry - is he hiding her?' 

'Was this potion out of date?' asked Slughorn, now eyeing Ron up with professional interest, 'They can strengthen, you know, the longer they kept?' 

'That explains a lot.' panted Harry as he was now positively wrestling Ron to keep him from knocking Slughorn over. 

'It's his birthday, professor.' you added imploringly. 

With great hesitance, Slughorn let the three of you into his office, motioning to take a seat by the fireplace. In the meanwhile, he went to retrieve the necessary ingredients from his bag a few steps aside. 

Ron burst through the door, and almost immediately tripped over a tasseled footstool, regained his balance by seizing Harry around the neck, and muttered 'She didn't see that, did she?' 

'She is not here yet,' you said, watching Slughorn opening his potion kit and adding pinches of this and that to a small glass bottle. 

'That's good,' said Ron fervently. 'How do I look?' 

'Very handsome,' said Slughorn smoothly, handing Ron a bottle of clear liquid. 'Now drink that up, it's a tonic for the nerves, keep you calm when she arrives, you know.' 

'Brilliant!' said Ron eagerly, and he gulped the antidote down noisily. 

You, Harry, and Slughorn watched him intensely. For a moment, Ron beamed at you, then, very slowly his grin sagged and vanished, to be replaced by an expression of utmost horror. 

'It seems he is back to normal.' you sighed in relief. 

'Thank you a lot, Professor.' Harry grinned. 'Don't mention it, m'boy, don't mention it,' said Slughorn as Ron collapsed flat on the couch, looking devastated. 

'Pick me up, that's what he needs,' Slughorn continued, now walking over to the table loaded with drinks. 'I've got butterbeer, I've got wine, I've got the last bottle of this oak-matured mead … hmm … meant to give that to Dumbledore for Christmas … ah well,' he shrugged ' … he can't miss what he's never had! Why don't we open it now and celebrate Mr. Weasley's birthday? Nothing like a fine spirit to chase away the pangs of disappointed love … ' 

He chortled again and two of you joined in. Perhaps if you got through enough of oak-matured mead you could forget about your own pangs of disappointed love. 

'There you are, then,' said Slughorn, handing Harry, Ron, and yourself a glass of mead each, before raising his own. 'Well, a very happy birthday, Ralph-' 

'-Ron-' you and Harry whispered almost simultaneously. 

But Ron appeared to not be listening to the toast, he had already thrown the mead into his mouth and swallowed it. 

There was one second, hardly more than a heartbeat, in which you and Harry both knew there was something terribly wrong, and Slughorn, it seemed, did not. 

'- and may you have many more -' 

' _Ron_!' you screeched in horror, Harry rushed to his side. Ron had dropped his glass; he half-rose from his seat and then crumpled, his arms and legs jerking uncontrollably. Foam was dripping from his mouth and his eyes were bulging from their sockets. 

'Professor!' Harry bellowed. 'Do something!' 

But Slughorn seemed paralyzed by shock. Ron twitched and choked: his skin was now turning blue. 

'What - but -' spluttered Slughorn. 

As if your legs carried you by themselves, you leaped over a low table and sprinted to Slughorn's open potion kit, pulling out jars and pouches, while the terrible sound of Ron's gargling breath filled the room. There was no time to make an antidote, there was only one ingredient that could save Ron. You knew exactly what you were looking for. 

'Jean, what are you doing?' shouted Harry, his hand holding Ron's head, keeping it from hitting the floor. 

'Bezoar? Is it in here, Professor?' you quickly glanced at Slughorn who gave you an uncertain shrug. 

You continued to ransack through the kit, your hands shaking. Then you found it - the shriveled kidney-like stone Slughorn had taken from Harry in Potions. You threw the bezoar at Harry who caught it and, in one motion wrenched open Ron's jaw, thrust it into his mouth, and pushed it further for him to swallow. Ron gave a great shudder, a rattling gasp and his body became limp and still. 

You ran back to him, kneeled, and practically shoved your face as close to his mouth as possible to determine if he was breathing. Feeling weak puffs of air escaping through Ron's lips, you sat back down, nodding at Harry affirmatively. 

Professor Slughorn did not move from his armchair, still, in shock, his mouth was wide open, eyes shifting from you to Ron's body then back to you. 

'Is- is he?' he quavered. 

'He is alive but he still needs help.' you answered, lifting Ron up into a seating position. 

Suddenly Slughorn seemed to have awoken from his daze, he swiftly got up and ran for help. McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey turned up ten minutes later, by that time Ron’s breathing eased up and his skin blushed with pink hues. 

It was not until that evening you could see Ron again. The hospital wing was quiet, the windows curtained, the lamps lit. Ron’s was the only occupied bed. Harry, Hermione, Ginny, and you were sitting around him; had spent all day waiting outside the double doors, trying to see inside whenever somebody went in or out. Madam Pomfrey did not let you enter until eight o’clock in the evening. Fred and Geroge had arrived at ten past. 

‘So, all in all, not one of Ron’s better birthdays? Said Fred. 

‘This isn’t how we imagined handing over our present,’ said Geroge grimly, putting down a large wrapped gift on Ron’s bedside cabinet and sitting beside Ginny. 

‘Yeah, when we pictured the scene, he was conscious,’ said Fred. 

Fred drew up a chair beside Harry and looked at Ron’s pale face. 

‘How exactly did it happen?’ 

Harry retold the story the two of you had already recounted what felt like a hundred times to Dumbledore, to McGonagall, to Madam Pomfrey, to Hermione, and to Ginny. 

‘... Jean threw it at me and I got the bezoar down his throat. Then McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey showed up, and they brought Ron up here. They reckon he’ll be alright. Madam Pomfrey says he’ll have to stay here a week or so … keep taking Essence of Rue …’ 

‘Blimey, it was lucky Jean thought of a bezoar,’ said George in a low voice, now turning to face you. 

‘Lucky there was one in the room,’ you replied weakly, you kept turning cold at the thought of what would have happened if you had not been able to lay hands on the little stone. 

Ginny reached out to squeeze your shoulder, rubbing it in circles for comfort. Hermione gave an almost inaudible sniff. She had been exceptionally quiet all day. Having hurtled, white-faced, up to you outside the hospital wing and demanded to know what had happened, she had taken almost no part in Harry and Ginny’s obsessive discussion about how Ron had been poisoned but merely stood beside you, clench-jawed and frightened-looking, until at last you had been allowed into see him. 

‘Someone could have had a grudge against the Gryffindor Quidditch team, could they?’ you proposed, interrupting George’s and Harry’s passionate discussion about the possibility of Slughorn trying to kill Dumbledore. ‘First Katie, now Ron…’ 

‘Well, I don’t think it’s Quidditch, but I think there’s a connection between the attacks,’ said Hermione quietly. 

‘How d’you work that out?’ asked Fred. 

‘Well, for one thing, they both ought to have been fatal and weren’t, although that was pure luck. And for another, neither the poison nor the necklace seems to have reached the person who was supposed to be killed. Of course,’ she added broodingly, ‘that makes the person behind this even more dangerous in a way because they don’t seem to care how many people they finish off before they actually reach their victim.’ 

Hermione's thoughts were cut off by the hospital wing door that swung open, Mr and Mrs Weasley entered, hurrying towards Ron's bed. 

As soon as she approached, teary Mrs Weasley threw her arms around you and Harry, pulling the two of you into an embrace. 

‘Dumbledore’s told us how you saved him with the bezoar,’ she sobbed. 

Her grip did not loosen and you could not think of any reply as she was squeezing you tighter into her arms. 

‘No more than six visitors at a time!’ said Madam Pomfrey hurrying out of her office. 

Let go by Mrs Weasley, you and Harry stepped at once to leave and Hermione decided to go with you, leaving Ron with his family. 

‘I bet it’s Malfoy’s doings,’ muttered Harry angrily. 

‘You’re just speculating, Harry.’ you promptly replied, ‘That’s a serious accusation to throw at someone …’ 

Harry strolled down the corridor, ignoring your attempts of reason. ‘I’ll catch him, and then we’ll see …’ 

The news that Ron had been poisoned spread quickly the next day, but it did not cause the sensation that Katie’s attack had done. People seemed to think that it might have been an accident, given that he had been in Slughorn’s office at the time, and that as he had been given an antidote immediately there was no real harm done. In fact, everyone was generally more interested in the upcoming Gryffindor’s Quidditch match against Hufflepuff. Despite not being interested in Quidditch you were excited to see Zarcharias Smith punished soundly for his commentary during Gryffindor’s opening match against Slytherin. 

Your relationship with Malfoy was quickly suggesting to be more of a fever dream than something that took place in reality. The many times you attempted to get him alone; cornered him in a corridor, or in Snape’s office, to talk about what happened, but time after time, he pushed past you as if you were not there. He did not speak _to_ you or _of_ you, making you think you were crazy to imagine the whole relationship in the first place. 

As if your own love life was not enough of a source of stress and disappointment, Lavender kept sliding up to you and Harry to discuss Ron. At first, she had been very annoyed that nobody had thought to tell her that Ron was in the hospital wing - ‘I mean, I _am_ his girlfriend!’ - but unfortunately she had now decided to forgive Harry this lapse of memory and was keen to have lots of in-depth chats with him about Ron’s feelings. Regardless of how uncomfortable the experience was and how happily you could have forgone it, leaving Harry to Lavender's mercy would have been cruel, and as a good friend, you endured the pain together with him. 

'Why don't you talk to Ron about this?' you asked, after a particularly long interrogation from Lavender that took in everything from precisely what Ron said about her new dress robes to whether or not Ron considered their relationship 'serious'. 

'I would, but he's always asleep when I go and see him!' she answered fretfully. 

'Is he?' asked Harry who, similarly to you, must have found Lavender's declaration surprising as Ron was perfectly alert every time either of you had paid him a visit at the hospital wing. 

'Is Hermione Granger still visiting him?' Lavender demanded suddenly. 

'Yeah, I think so. Well, they're friends, aren't they?' said Harry uncomfortably. 

'Friends? Don't make me laugh.' said Lavender scornfully. 'She didn't talk to him for weeks after he started going out with me! But I suppose she wants to make up with him now he's all _interesting_ …' 

'Are you calling being poisoned interesting?' you challenged derisively. 

'Jean, we gotta go, McLaggen is coming.' said Harry hurriedly, you could barely keep up when he dashed to the large double doors of the Great Hall and sprinted to the marble staircase that would lead you down to the kitchens, where neither Lavender nor McLaggen could follow you. 

'Is he still trying to push through his _game changing_ strategy?' you chuckled. 

Harry did not need to answer, the look of pure exhaustion and hopelessness did it for him. The two of you walked along the corridor, past the Hufflepuff common room entrance, towards the Slytherin Dungeon. Harry was still hoping to catch Malfoy right handed doing whatever it was Harry thought he was doing. But despite his determination he had no luck at all. Although he consulted the map so often as he could, sometimes making unnecessary visits to the bathroom between lessons to search it, he did not once see Malfoy anywhere suspicious. Now, he was simply relying on his luck to bump into trouble as he had successfully done the past five years. Approaching the Slytherin Dungeon, Harry pulled his Invisibility Cloak out of his pocket and threw it over the two of you. 

Without much enthusiasm you walked beside Harry who was cautiously looking over every corner in hopes to stumble upon something worth investigating. His obsession with Malfoy was making even you concerned. As you circled around the dungeons a commotion in one of the empty classrooms caught Harry’s attention. He took out the Marauder's map to see if what it was, and sure enough, he saw Malfoy and Deimos Carrows’s tiny, labelled dots standing in the room. Carrow was one of the seventh-year students who would always hang out with Joon. You were surprised to see Draco and Deimos together, never seen them interact or even look at each other before. Harry, on the other hand, was not fazed even in the slighestes, with great jolt of excitement, he crouched down to the keyhole of the classroom in the corridor, pulling you down to his level. 

‘... cannot afford mistakes, Draco, we’re very close.’ the low voice, you assumed belonged to Carrow, said. 

‘Yes.’ Malfoy replied. 

‘We can’t have people pointing fingers at us, or _him_. He’s not happy with the Slughorn incident ...’ said Carrow, his voice so low now that you had to push your ear very hard against the keyhole to hear. 

‘Everything is under control. There’s no need to worry, okay?’ replied Draco. 

With barely a second’s warning, hearing Malfoy’s footsteps on the other side of the doors, you flung yourself and Harry out of the way just as it burst open. Malfoy and Carrow were striding away down the corridor, round the distant corner and out of sight. 

Daring to breathe, You and Harry remained crouched down on the floor, afraid they might come back, your mind racing. 

You could no longer dismiss it to be a misunderstanding or a mistake - Malfoy was up to something, there was no denying he could have been responsible for Ron’s poisoning. 

l Malfoy’s whereabouts quickly became of high importance to Harry, Draco seemed to be the only topic of his every conversion with you. The upcoming Quidditch game that had the whole school talking, was of no interest to Harry; he was rapidly becoming more obsessed with Draco Malfoy, and now Carrow. Still checking the Marauder’s Map whenever he got a chance, he sometimes made detours to wherever Malfoy and Carrow happened to be, but had not yet detected them doing anything out of the ordinary. However there were inexplicable times when they would simply vanish from the map. This was most mysterious. You had suggested that they could be leaving the school grounds, but Harry did not see how they could be doing it, given the late hours and the very high level of security now operating within the castle due to the attacks. 

All the talk about Malfoy was undoing much if not all emotional healing you attempted to go through the previous weeks. Everytime you thought you could be in the same room as Draco without the encompassing feeling of misery, you were proven wrong the second your eyes wandered to glance at him. Depleting Madam Pomfrey’s stocks of both the Calming Draught and the Draught of Peace, you were forced to turn to Snape. Suspicious but understanding, he provided you with a small supply and the necessary ingredients to brew your own. 

‘I would stay out of prolonged use of the Draught of Peace, Jean.’ he warned you before you left, you could hear genuine concern in his voice, although his expression remained indifferent. 

On the morning of the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff Harry went up to visit Ron, who was very agitated; Madam Pomfrey would not let him go down to watch the match, feeling it would over excite him. Feeling exceptionally gloomy in the morning, you met up with Harry outside the double doors of the hospital wing on his way to the pitch, the two of you hurried down through the deserted corridors. The whole school was outside, either already seated in the stadium or heading down towards it. Harry was looking out of the windows he passed, trying to gauge how much wind they were facing. You were looking down at the ground, your mind calm and deadpan due to the potion you ingested earlier. 

The sudden noise ahead made both of you glance up and you saw Malfoy walking towards you, accompanied by Parkinson and Nott, both of whom looked ordinarily smug. 

Malfoy stopped short at the sight of Harry, not throwing a single glance at you, he then gave a short, humourless laugh and continued walking. 

‘Where’re you going?’ Harry demanded, surprising you with his boldness. 

‘Yeah, he’s really going to tell you, because it’s your business, Potter,’ sneered Pansy. 

‘You’d better hurry up, they’ll be waiting for the Chosen Captain - the Boy Who Scored - whatever they call you these days.’ Malfoy smirked. 

You tugged on Harry’s sleeve, and pulled him past the Slytherins. Harry was infuriated, there was Malfoy, skulking off while the rest of the school was absent: your best chance yet of discovering what he was up to. 

‘We’ll catch him, focus on the game now. Good luck!’ you encouraged Harry as he left to join the rest of the team in the changing rooms. Then you climbed up the stairs to the spectator box, joining Hermione and Neville. As you sat down the Gryffindors beside you booed, but after Hermione threw them a threatening look, they quieted down. 

‘Luna is commentating today!’ cheered Neville. You looked over at the commentator’s box and there was no mistaking that long, dirty-blonde hair, or the necklace of Butterbeer corks. 

On the field, Harry shook hands with the Hufflepuff Captain, and then, on the whistle, kicked off and rose into the air, higher than the rest of his team, streaking around the pitch in search of the Snitch. 

‘And that’s Smith of Hufflepuff with the Quaffle,’ said Luna’s dreamy voice, echoing over the grounds. ‘He did the commentary last time, of course, and Ginny Weasley flew into him. I think probably on purpose - it looked like it. Smith was being quite rude about Gryffindor, I expect he regrets that now he’s playing them - oh, look, he’s lost the Quaffle, Ginny took it from him, I do like her, she’s very nice …’ 

You giggled, observing Luna in front of the microphone; beside her, Professor McGonagall was looking slightly uncomfortable, as though she was having second thoughts about this appointment. 

‘ … but now that big Hufflepuff player’s got the Quaffle from her, I can’t remember his name, it’s something like Bibble - no, Bugging-’ 

‘It’s Cadwallader!’ said Professor McGonagall loudly from beside Luna. The crowd laughed. 

Moments later Cadwallader scored, McLaggen was shouting criticism at Ginny for allowing the Quaffel out of her possession, with the result that he had not noticed the large red ball soaring past his right ear. 

‘And Harry Potter’s now having an argument with his Keeper,’ said Luna serenely, while both Hufflepuffs and Slytherins below in the crowd cheered and jeered. ‘ I don’t think that'll help him find the Snitch, but maybe it’s a clever ruse …’ 

Luna’s commentary was the most delightful distraction from spectating the struggles Harry was having with McLaggen who was accusing him of being a bad captain for bellowing at his Keeper. 

Ginny and Demelza scored a goal each, giving the red-and-gold-clad supporters at your box something to cheer about. Then Cadwallader scored again, making things level, but Luna did not seem to have noticed; she appeared singularly uninterested in such mundane things as the score, and kept attempting to draw the crowd’s attention to such things as interestingly shaped clouds and the possibility that Zacharias Smith, who had so far failed to maintain possession of the Quaffle for longer than a minute, was suffering from something called ‘Loser’s Lurgy’. 

‘Seventy-forty to Hufflepuff!’ barked Professor McGonagall into Luna’s microphone. 

‘Is it already?’ said Luna vaguely. ‘Oh, look! The Gryffindor Keeper’s got hold of one of the Beater’s bats.’ 

‘What does that clown think he’s doing?’ exclaimed Hermione. 

Sure enough, McLaggen, for reasons best known to himself, had pulled Peakes’s bat from him and appeared to be demonstrating how to hit a Bludger towards an oncoming Cadwallader. Harry, furious, spun around and pelted towards McLaggen just as he took a ferocious swipe at the Bludger and mis-hit it. 

The gasps and creams roared through the crowd; at full speed the Bludger hit Harry terribly in the head, knocking him off the broom and sending his body into a downward spiral. Coote and Peakes swiftly zoomed down to catch their captain’s body before it collided with the ground. Madam Hooch’s whistle signaled a pause in the game, and Harry was rushed off the field. Although the rest of the team had to keep playing, the game was over for you and Hermione, the two of you hurried downstairs to make sure Harry was all right. 

Harry was brought to the hospital wing where Madam Pomfrey mended his cracked skull at once, keeping him overnight for healing. Unfortunately Hermione and you were not allowed to visit Harry or even Ron before the former had woken up, as to not overexert him. So after being asserted by the hospital wing matron in Harry’s well-being, you had to leave. 

‘I’m going to kill McLaggen.’ hissed Hermione. 

‘If the rest of the team doesn’t kill him first, their chances of winning without Harry are slim to none…’ you replied. 

Just like you predicted, Harry’s injury had completely thrown off the game for the Gryffindor, and as you found out from the celebrations in the common room, they lost to Hufflepuff three hundred and twenty to sixty. Happy for Hufflepuff but upset with the circumstances of your house’ win, you left the common room to wander the corridors. 

While Harry was at the hospital wing you were determined to investigate Malfoy's whereabouts yourself, you headed to the Great Hall in search of Joon, who you thought was the best possible source of information about the Slytherins. As if the universe did not want to throw any easy paths your way, Zacharias Smith was, perhaps tired from Hufflepuff celebrations, sitting at the Slytherin table, beaming with glee. Joon was sitting just two people away in front of him. An idea hit you and you instantly knew what you had to do. 

Swallowing your pride, you put on the most charming smile you could muster, and boldly marched up to the Slytherin table. 

‘Fantastic game Zacharias!’ you said dreamy, twirling a strain of hair into your finger. ‘I never knew you were such a fantastic Quidditch player …’ 

Your comment took Smith a second to process, his grin widened as he lifted his chin up proudly. The Slytherins beside him cheered as he stood up to greet your compliments. 

‘Well, I didn’t do much…’ he mumbled, rubbing the back of his head. 

‘I thought you were brilliant!’ you parted the two Slytherins in front of you, squeezing in between to take a seat right in front of Smith. ‘You really showed the Gryffindor-’ 

Your little performance in front of the Hufflepuff Chaser caught Joon’s attention, he abruptly ended his conversation and stared at you, irritated. 

‘What’re you doing, Jean?’ Joon said sharply. ‘You don’t even like Quidditch.’ 

‘Oh, I think I’m a fan now.’ you giggled flirtatiously at Smith, batting your eyelashes. 

Zacharias blushed fiercely, his jaw slacked, he could not mutter a single word out. But before he could, Joon abruptly stood up, knocking a cup of pumpkin juice off the table. 

‘I’ll borrow her for a minute here.’ Joon grabbed you by the arm, and pulled you out of the Great Hall, his grip possessive, claiming. 

‘What do you think you’re doing flirting with Smith?’ he immediately exploded as the two of you walked down the stairs, ran into one of the empty classrooms. 

‘What?’ you asked cluelessly. ‘Why can’t I flirt with him?’ 

Joon breathed in heavily in an attempt to control his anger, his eyes closed, jaw tense. Just a couple of months ago you would have been intimidated by his tense demeanor, but with everything that transpired - Joon no longer could scare you. 

‘Because,’ he stepped closer, ‘they know I like you- ’ 

‘Oh, and you can’t let them realize I’m not into you, can you?’ you taunted, the smile disappeared from your face. 

‘C’mon, Jean, we both know that you are…’ He raised his hand to grab your chin, tilting it up slightly so your head was upturned towards him. 

‘I _promise_ you, Joon. I am not.’ you sneered, pushing his hand away from your face. ‘What we both know, however, is that everything your family has, you owe to my father. So, _you_ are in no position to control _me_.’ 

The seriousness in your voice made Joon step backwards, he looked at you surprised. Suddenly his expression changed again and a smirk sneaked its way onto his face, he shook his head and scoffed. 

‘You little… what do you want?’ 

‘Information,’ you replied dryly. ‘Everyone in Slytherin practically swoons before you. Malfoy and Carrow are planning something, I need to know what, and who they’re working with.’ 

From the mention of Draco’s name his eyes slightly narrowed, his body tensed up. 

‘And what do I get?’ 

‘What do you want?’ 

Joon took a painfully long pause, despite your cold and serious exterior, inside your mind was racing. 

‘You,’ he replied, smirking. ‘If you want me to snoop around, deceiving my own house, you are going to be my girlfriend.’ 

‘You can’t be serious…’ you rolled your eyes, a chuckle escaped your mouth. ‘I thought I made it pretty clear I’m not into you anymore-’ 

‘It doesn’t matter.' Joon sharply interrupted. 'I need people to _think_ you’re. Pretend we’re dating until I can break up with you. To improve my image, you know.’ 

‘ _Fine_.’


	15. The Room of Requirement

Harry and Ron left the hospital wing first thing following Monday morning, restored to full health by the ministrations of Madam Pomfrey and now able to enjoy the benefits of having been knocked out and poisoned, the best of which was that Hermione was friends with Ron again. Hermione even sat down with the rest of you at breakfast, bringing with her the news that Ginny had argued with Dean. This seemed to distract Harry from interrogating how you and Joon came to be fake dating all of the sudden. Escorting Harry and Ron to breakfast from the hospital wing earlier, you had an opportunity to explain the complicated nature of yours and Joon’s new relationship, or more accurately - the absence of a said relationship.

‘What did they row about?’ he asked, trying to sound casual. 

‘Oh, Dean was laughing about McLaggen hitting that Bludger at you,’ said Hermione. 

‘It must’ve looked funny,’ said Ron reasonably. 

‘It didn’t look funny at all.’ you exclaimed. 

‘It looked terrible, and if Coote and Peakes hadn't caught Harry he could have been very badly hurt!’ continued Hermione hotly. 

‘Yeah, well, there was no need for Ginny and Dean to split up over it,’ said Harry, still trying to sound casual. ‘Or are they still together?’ 

‘Yes, there are - but why are you so interested?’ wondered Hermione, giving Harry a sharp look. 

‘I just don’t want my Quidditch team messed up again!’ he said hastily, but Hermione continued to look suspicious. You smiled - his feelings for Ginny were painfully obvious. 

‘What is it I heard about you and Park?’ Hermione suddenly asked, changing the subject, to Harry's relief. 

‘Well, yeah, _that_ … We’re dating now.’ you said without much enthusiasm. ‘It’s for a show, though.’ you whispered the last part into Hermione’s ear. 

‘And how is _that_ going?’ Hermione asked hesitantly. 

‘Can’t you tell how I am just beaming with happiness.’ you deadpanned, forcing a fake smile. 

‘I mean, half of the school already thought you guys were dating, so-’ 

Ron stopped talking very suddenly. Lavender Brown walked through the doors of the Great Hall looking thunderous. 

‘Hi,’ said Ron nervously as she marched up to where the four of you were sitting. 

‘C’mon,’ Harry muttered to you and Hermione, and the three of you stood up to leave promptly but not before you had heard Lavender say, ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were getting out today? And why was Granger with you?’ 

‘I’d honestly rather sit with those two then go there,’ you glanced at the Slytherin table hopelessly, Joon was waving you over with an impish look. 

Harry and Hermione moved to take a seat on the other side of the Gryffindor table, in the meanwhile you had to walk to the opposite side of the Hall, to join your _boyfriend_. 

‘Good morning, babe.’ Joon cooed, leaning down to place a kiss on your cheek. You never took yourself to be a good actress, but this performance did not take much; Joon did most all the pretending, while you had to sit and look at him lovingly. His constant displays of affection towards you, whether it was a kiss on a cheek, or his tender whispers into your ear, drove all the girls at the Slytherin table mad. Pansy, who was proving to be possibly more clingy than Lavender when it came to Draco, glared at you jealously, forcing herself on Malfoy every time Joon as much as breathed near you. 

After the meal, Joon, despite your protests, insisted on escorting you to class. 

‘Did you find anything?’ you asked as the two of you were walking up the stairs to the sixth floor for your first period Ancient Runes. 

‘Not yet.’ he muttered, squeezing your hand tighter. 

‘You seem to be focusing more on this _relationship_ than what you should be focusing on.' you whispered and pulled your hand out of his grasp, annoyed. Joon answered with a shrug. 

Unlike you, Hermione seemed to be in a particularly good mood all that day. Professor Babbling even had to warn the two of you to keep it down after Hermione joked about how you began to arrive early, now that the classrooms served as getaways from Joon. Monday was particularly strenuous - it was Joon’s free day and he insisted on walking you to each one of your classes. 

‘You make a cute couple,’ Hermione commented, hiding the smirk crossing her face from Joon who was once again holding your hand on the way to Defence Against the Dark Arts. You turned to throw her a dirty look, mouthing _I hate you_. 

To your frustration, over the week, Joon still could not produce any valuable insight into Malfoy's and Carrow’s operations, however, he continued to drag you along to every breakfast, lunch, dinner, and social gathering he possibly could. 

Hiding out in Gryffindor’s common room all Sunday to avoid being invited to the Hogsmeade trip with Joon and his gang, you sat beside the fire with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. There had been a certain amount of excitement earlier when you had come back from dinner to find a new sign on the noticeboard that announced the date for the Apparition test. Those who would be seventeen on or before the first test date, the twenty-first of April, had the option of signing up for additional practice sessions, which would take place (heavily supervised) in Hogsmeade. 

Ron had panicked on reading this notice; he had still not managed to Apparate and feared he would not be ready for the test. Hermione and you, who both had achieved Apparition, were a little more confident, but Harry, who would not be seventeen for another four months, could not take the test whether ready or not. 

‘At least you can Apparate, though!’ said Ron tensely. ‘You’ll have no trouble come July!’ 

‘I’ve only done it once,’ Harry reminded him; he had finally managed to disappear and rematerialize inside his hoop during the previous lesson. 

Having wasted a lot of time worrying aloud about Apparition, Ron was now struggling to finish a viciously difficult essay for Snape that the rest three of you had already completed. While Ron scribbled away with his quill, Harry was poring over his Potions book, hoping that the Prince would have scribbled something useful in a margin, as he had done so many times before. With Joon not being as helpful as you had hoped, you still had no idea what Draco was up to, and Prince’s book was one of the desperate attempts to find answers. 

‘If I have to date him much longer, I’m going to take Aconite Fluid’ you huffed, irritated at the prospect of enduring faking the relationship for another who knew how long. 

‘I know how you feel….’ mumbled Ron quietly. ‘How d’you spell “belligerent”? he suddenly asked, shaking his quill very hard while staring at his parchment. ‘It can’t be B - U - M -’ 

‘No it isn’t,’ said Hermione, pulling Ron’s essay towards her. ‘And “augury” doesn’t begin O - R - G either. What kind of quill are you using?’ 

‘It’s one of Fred and George’s Spell-Checking ones … but I think the cham must be wearing off …’ 

‘It’s OK, we can fix it,’ said Hermione, pulling the essay towards her and taking out her wand. 

‘If he doesn’t produce results, just ditch him.’ continued Harry, addressing your previous comment. He had just found an incantation ( _Sectumsempra_!) scrawled in a margin above the intriguing words ‘For Enemies’. He showed it to you excitedly but also covertly, hiding it from Hermione, and folded down the corner of the page surreptitiously, you could tell he was itching to try it out. 

‘And you too, Ron.’ Harry spoke again, ‘Why don’t you just break up with Lavender if she annoys you so much?’ 

‘You haven’t ever chucked anyone, have you?’ said Ron. ‘You and Cho just-’ 

‘Sort of fell apart, yeah,’ said Harry. 

‘Wish that would happen with me and Lavender,’ said Ron gloomily, watching Hermione silently tapping each of his misspelled words with the end of her wands, so that they corrected themselves on the page. ‘But the more I hint I want to finish it, the tighter she holds on. It’s like going out with the Giant Squid.’ 

‘I’d honestly rather take the Squid …’ you muttered, looking around; the four of you were now the only ones left in the common room, Seamus having just gone up to bed cursing Snape and his essay. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire and Ron scratching out one last paragraph. 

‘I better get going,’ you said, standing up. It was already past curfew and you had to somehow maneuver it back to the dungeons avoiding being caught by the corridor patrols. Climbing through the portrait hole, your heart almost stopped to see Joon waiting outside the entrance. 

‘Jesus, what the hell are you doing here?’ you said sharply, your heart now beating rapidly from the shock. 

‘Knew you’d be here,’ Joon replied, smirking. ‘I have the information.’ 

Threatening to end your relationship if he did not soon provide the needed intelligence on what the Slytherins were up to seemed to have worked. 

‘Malfoy and Carrow have been making regular visits to the seventh floor. Pansy and Blaise said they often keep watch while they enter-’ 

‘The Room of Requirement!’ exclaimed Harry as you were retelling your conversation with Joon the following day, smacking himself hard on the forehead. ‘That’s where they’ve been sneaking off to! That’s where they’re doing … whatever they’re doing! And I bet that’s why they’ve been disappearing off the map - come to think of it, I’ve never seen the Room of Requirement on there!’ 

‘I think it’ll be part of the magic of the Room,’ said Hermione. ‘If you need it to be unplottable, it will be.’ 

‘How good is this?’ said Harry enthusiastically. ‘We know where Malfoy and Carrow are going! We’ve got them cornered!’ 

‘Yeah that’s great,’ you said glumly, ‘But what’s up with Parkinson and Zabini going up there with them? How many people are in on it?’ 

‘Yeah, that is weird,’ said Harry, frowning. ‘Including Crabbe and Goyle that makes four other people involved in this, and that is not counting the mysterious _him_ they were talking about.’ 

‘I still don’t think you’ll be able to get into the Room of Requirement without knowing what exactly is there first.’ Hermione said. 

You did not sleep well that night, much like any other night, you laid awake wondering what Malfoy was up to that resulted in such a sudden shift in his behavior. Your mind worked feverishly and even your dreams, when you finally fell asleep, were broken and disturbed by images of Malfoy, who turned into Carrow, who turned into Joon … 

The following morning over breakfast, Harry was in a state of great anticipation, on the other hand, you were less optimistic about being able to get into Malfoy’s Room of Requirement. Hermione was also rather ostentatiously showing no interest in Harry’s whispered plans for forcing entry into the Room, which visibly irritated Harry. 

You finished your breakfast in silence, you and Hermione set off for Ancient Runes. Harry must have headed straight for the corridor on the seventh floor and the stretch of wall opposite the tapestry of Barnabas and Barmy teaching trolls to do ballet. 

By the look of frustration and annoyance you saw on Harry’s face as he entered the DADA classroom, his attempts to break into the Room did not produce any results. 

‘Late again, Potter,’ said Snape coldly, as Harry hurried into the candlelit classroom. ‘Ten points from Gryffindor.’ 

You scowled at Snape; half of the class was still on its feet, taking out books and organizing its things; Harry was not much later than any of them. Harry flung himself into the seat beside you, annoyed. Everyone settled down into their seats when Snape stood up from his desk and walked to the front of the room. 

‘Now, open your books at page - what is it, Mr. Finnigan?’ 

‘Sir,’ said Seamus, “I’ve been wondering, how do you tell the difference between an Inferius and a ghost? Because there was something in the _Prophet_ about an Inferius -’ 

‘No, there wasn’t,’ said Snape in a bored voice. 

‘But sir, I heard people talking-’ 

‘If you had actually read the article in question, Mr. Finnigan, you would have known that so-called Inferius was nothing but a smelly sneak-thief by the name of Mundungus Fletcher.’ 

‘Not his place to talk about hygiene..’ muttered Harry to you. ‘When was the last time he washed his hair-’ 

‘It seems, Potter, once again, has valuable insight on the topic,’ said Snape, narrowing his eyes on Harry. ‘Let ask Potter how we would tell the difference between Inferius and a ghost?’ 

‘Well - ghosts are transparent -’ Harry answered. 

‘Oh, very good,’ interrupted Snape, his lip curling. ‘Yes, it is easy to see that nearly six years of magical education have not been wasted on you, Potter. _Ghosts are transparent_.’ 

Slytherins at the back chuckled. Harry took a deep breath and continued, calmly, though you could see through his eyes, he was boiling inside, ‘Yeah, ghosts are transparent, but Inferi are dead bodies, aren’t they? So they’d be solid -’ 

‘A five-year-old could have told us as much,’ sneered Snape. ‘Miss Jones, would you be able to tell us a more _academic_ definition?’ 

‘The Inferius is a corpse that has been reanimated by Dark Magic. It is not alive, it is merely used as a puppet to do the Dark wizard’s bidding. A ghost is the imprint of a departed soul left upon the earth …’ you answered reluctantly. 

‘And, of course, as Potter so wisely tells us, ghosts are _transparent_.’ finished Snape. 

‘Well, what Harry said is the most useful if we’re trying to tell them apart!’ said Ron. ‘When we come face to face with one down a dark alley we’re going to be having a shufti to see if it’s solid, aren’t we, we’re not going to be asking “Excuse me, are you the imprint of a departed soul?”’ 

There was a ripple of laughter roaring from students, including yourself. It was instantly quelled by the look Snape gave the class. 

‘Another ten points from Gryffindor,’ said Snape. ‘I would expect nothing more sophisticated from you, Ronald Weasley, the boy so solid he cannot Apparate half an inch across a room.’ 

‘ _No_!’ you whispered, grabbing Harry’s arm as he opened his mouth furiously. ‘There’s no point, you’ll just end up in detention again, leave it!’ 

‘Now open your books at page three hundred and thirteen,’ said Snape, smirking a little, ‘and read the first two paragraphs on the Cruciatus Curse …’ 

Ron seemed down all class. When the bell sounded at the end of the lesson, Lavender caught up with Ron, Harry, and you (Hermione mysteriously melted out of sight as she approached) and abused Snape hotly for his jibe about Ron’s Apparition, but this seemed merely to irritate Ron, and he shook her off by escorting you to Care of Magic Creatures with Harry. 

‘Snape’s right, though, isn’t he?’ said Ron. ‘I dunno whether it’s worth me taking the test. I just can’t get the hang of Apparition.’ 

‘You might as well do the extra practice sessions in Hogsmeade and see where they get you,’ said Harry reasonably. 

‘‘It’ll be more interesting than trying to get into a stupid hoop.’ you chimed in, trying to cheer Ron up. 

‘Then, if you’re still not - you know - as good as you’d like to be, you can postpone the test, do it with me over the summer.’ finished Harry. 

‘You’re right,’ he said as the three of you approached Hagrid’s Hut. ‘I’ll do the practice sessions in Hogsmeade before I decide about taking the test.’ 

Hagrid was not cheery as you were used to seeing him, he gloomily let the three of you inside and immediately broke into tears. It turned out Aragog was not doing too well and Hagrid expected the worst. Harry and Ron whom Aragog unsuccessfully tried to feed to his mates four years prior, did not seem as crushed and devastated as Hagrid hoped. The two Gryffindors promptly left when they heard Hagrid was taking you to see the Acromantula for that day’s class. 

Aragog appeared less threatening than Ron and Harry had described him to be. Possibly in the last weeks or even days of his life, he looked frail and ill. Contracted an unknown illness over the summer and despite Hagrid’s efforts to heal him with giant grubs, Aragog was getting worse every day. His family, however, was the source of real fear and discomfort on your trip to the Forbidden Forest. Sensing the giant spider's weakness, the arachnids were getting rather restive and, according to Hagrid, possibly preparing to devour him. 

‘Better him than us.' you muttered to yourself. 

Your journey to see Aragog and his family was a popular topic of conversation between you and your friends. Ron made a disgusted groan every time Aragog’s name was mentioned for the rest of the week which the rest of you found highly amusing. 

The following weekend, Ron joined Hermione, you, and the rest of the sixth-years who would turn seventeen in time to take the test in a fortnight. Harry looked rather jealous watching you all get ready to go into the village; it was a particularly fine spring day, one of the first clear skies you had seen in a long time. 

Everyone only made it back from Hogsmeade for lunch. When the three of you arrived at the Great Hall, Harry was nowhere to be seen. Although you saw Zabini in Hogsmeade with the rest of sixth-years, Malfoy and the rest of the gang stayed back in the castle. The three of you figured Harry must have been attempting another assault on the Room of Requirements. 

Harry arrived twenty or thirty minutes later; Hermione, Ron, and you were already halfway through lunch, he was frustrated from yet another round of empty efforts to get into the Room. 

Ron quickly changed the topic back to Apparition and how he was successfully able to finally do it. Although he overshot, and instead of Apparating to the outside of Madam Puddifoot’s tea shop, ended up near Scrivenshaft's, he was happy to be able to move at last. 

‘Hermione was perfect, obviously,’ said Ron before Hermione could say anything regarding herself. ‘Perfect deliberation, divination, and desperation, or whatever the hell it is - we all went for a quick drink in the Three Broomsticks after and you should’ve heard Twycross going on about her - I’ll be surprised if he doesn’t pop the question soon.’ 

‘How’d you do, Jean?’ asked Harry. 

‘I think it went well, a little more practice and I should be good.’ you smiled. 

‘And what about you?’ asked Hermione. ‘Have you been up at the Room of Requirement all this time?’ 

‘Yep.’ answered Harry scowling. ‘Goyle was standing guard outside of it, but I was not able to get in, no matter what I tried …’ 

‘Just forget about Malfoy, Dumbledore and the rest of the teachers are probably already on it’ Hermione told Harry firmly, jerking _Prophet_ out from under Harry’s hand and unfolding it to look at the front page. 

‘Anything interesting -?’ asked Ron, as Hermione scanned the headlines. 

‘Someone named Octavius Pepper has vanished … oh, and how horrible, a nine-year-old boy has been arrested for trying to kill his grandparents, they think he was under the Imperius Curse …’ 

‘Dad said, there have been a lot of Dark wizards resurfacing recently,’ muttered Ron. ‘As if they are all preparing for something.’ 

‘Could be connected to whatever Malfoy’s doing.’ exclaimed Harry to which Hermione rolled her eyes and continued to read through the paper. 

‘Malfoy’s dad _was_ a death eater-’ drawled Ron. 

‘Voldermort is dead, the death eaters are either in Azkaban or also dead.’ you interrupted Ron sharply. ‘The pure-blood supremacists who are behind all of this,’ you pointed at _Prophet_ , ‘and probably the attempt to burn my family’s house down, to be honest, are also going to be caught and sent to Azkaban. I don’t think it has anything to do with Malfoy or his family ...’ 

‘I just think we can’t dismiss a possibility that Malfoy has joined the ranks of these crazy pure-blood supremacists.’ sneered Ron. 

‘I mean, then we can’t dismiss the possibility that Voldemort is back and trying to poison Hogwarts students.’ you sassed back. 

Sudden laughter erupted from the four of you. 

Your mind was racing with all the possible possibilities of what Draco was up to in the Room of Requirements, surely, you thought, there had to be an explanation to all of this. 

‘Can I ask you a question Professor?’ you said, bumping into Snape the next evening, patrolling the corridors. 

‘What is it, Jean?’ 

‘If there was something sinister going on at Hogwarts, you and Professor Dumbledore would know, right?’ you asked hesitantly. Snape looked at you, his expression hardened. ‘Like the necklace Katie touched, and the mead Ron-’ 

‘The matter is being investigated.’ he interrupted. ‘But I can assure you, Hogwarts is safe to students and the staff.’ 

You nodded, disappointed from Snape’s answer. 

‘I’ve not seen you in the company of Draco Malfoy in a while. I was under the impression he was quite taken by you.’ Snape suddenly asked. The two of you walked along the dim-lit dungeon corridors leading to kitchens. 

‘Er-’ you blushed, taken aback by Snape’s sudden interest in your love life. ‘He’s dating Pansy Parkinson, actually.' you replied, keeping your voice as indifferent as you could. 'Surely, you misinterpreted him, sir.’ 

‘Is that so?’ Snape asked, his forehead creased as his brows drew together. 

_How in the world did Snape know Draco liked you_ was the last thought on your mind before you drifted to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Snape is Draco x reader shipper we all knew that.


	16. Sectumsempra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had the chapter written already and though I should just post it to motivate me to write the next one faster. Enjoy <3

Patches of bright blue sky were beginning to appear over the castle turrets, but these signs of approaching summer did not lift your mood. You had been thwarted, both in yours and Harry’s attempts to find out what Malfoy was doing and in your efforts to get over your feelings for the latter. Being Joon’s fake girlfriend did not make your heart ache any less every time you saw Draco wrapped around Pansy or vice versa, as you were so naive to think.

Thankfully that day your mind was occupied by the Apparition test you were taking in the afternoon. You were sitting with Ron, Harry, and Hermione in a sunny corner of the courtyard after lunch. The three of you reading for the test were clutching a Ministry of Magic pamphlet: _Common Apparition Mistakes and How to Avoid Them_. The pamphlet had not proved soothing to Ron’s nerves, he often looked around anxiously, and now tried to hide behind Hermione as a girl came round the corner. 

‘It isn’t Lavender,’ said Hermione wearily. 

‘Oh good,’ said Ron, relaxing slightly. 

‘If you’re so determined to find what Malfoy’s up to, why don’t you just take the Liquid luck?’ asked Ron suddenly. 

Harry stared at him. ‘Felix Felicis?’ he said. ‘I dunno … I was sort of saving it …’ 

‘What for?’ demanded Ron incredulously. 

Harry did not answer. His mind trailed to something fermenting in the depths of his brain, his lips curved into a smile. 

‘Harry? Are you still with us?’ asked Hermione. 

‘What-? Yeah, of course,’ he said, pulling himself together. ‘Well … OK. I’ll think about it.’ 

‘Won’t hurt to try,’ you said briskly, getting to your feet and performing a pirouette. ‘Destination … determination … deliberation …’ you murmured. 

‘Oh, stop that,’ Ron begged you, ‘I feel sick enough as it is - quick, hide me!’ 

‘It isn’t Lavender!’ you said impatiently, as another couple of girls appeared in the courtyard and it was now your turn for Ron to dive behind. 

‘Cool,’ said Ron, peering over your shoulder to check. 

The bell rang overhead in the castle and Hermione, Ron, and you jumped to your feet, looking terrified. 

‘You’ll do fine,’ Harry said, as you headed towards the Entrance Hall to meet the rest of the people taking their Apparition test. ‘Good luck.’ 

‘Have fun in Potions!’ said Ron, as Harry headed off to the dungeons. 

The Apparition test proved to be not as stressful as you had worried it to be. Both Hermione and you passed without much difficulty, demonstrating the perfect Apparition technique according to Twycross. Ron, however, was not as successful. He was left devastated as the examiner had spotted that he had left half an eyebrow behind - failing him. 

‘Bad luck, mate, but you’ll pass next time- we can take it together.’ Harry comforted Ron at dinner. 

‘Yeah, I s’pose,’ said Ron grumpily. ‘But _half an eyebrow_! Like that matters!’ 

‘I know,’ Hermione soothed, ‘it does seem really harsh …’ 

You spent most of the dinner roundly abusing the Apparition examiner and Ron looked fractionally more cheerful by the time all of you set off to your respective common rooms. 

However, the next morning Ron's mood seemed down again. During the charms class, he was waving his wand very vaguely in the direction of the ceiling without paying the slightest bit of attention to what he was doing or what was going on around him. 

‘Ron, you’re making it snow,’ said Hermione patiently, grabbing his wrist and redirecting his wand away from the ceiling from which, sure enough, large white flakes had started to fall. 

Lavender Brown, you noticed, glared at Hermione from a neighboring table through very red eyes and Hermione immediately let go of Ron’s arm. 

‘Oh yeah,’ said Ron, looking down at his shoulders in vague surprise. ‘Sorry … looks like we’ve all got horrible dandruff now …’ 

He brushed some of the fake snow off Hermione’s shoulder. Lavender burst into tears. Ron looked immensely guilty and turned his back on her. 

‘We split up,’ he declared out of the corner of his mouth. ‘She said I was hanging out with Hermione too much and didn't pay enough attention to her …’ 

‘Well - you don’t mind it’s over do you?’ wondered Harry. 

‘No,’ Ron admitted. ‘It was pretty bad while she was yelling, but at least I didn’t have to finish it.’ 

‘Well, it was a bad night for romance all around. Ginny and Dean split up too, Harry.’ Hermione said with a rather knowing look in her eye as she turned to Harry. 

Keeping his face as immobile and his voice as indifferent as he could, he asked, ‘How come?’ 

‘They’ve been rocky for ages. It was really silly … She said he was always trying to help her through the portrait hole like she couldn’t climb in herself.’ 

You briefly glanced over at Dean on the other side of the classroom. He certainly did not seem to be in a pleasant mood. 

‘Of course, this puts you in a bit of a dilemma, doesn’t it?’ continued Hermione. 

‘What d’you mean?’ said Harry quickly, shifting his gaze from her. 

‘The Quidditch team,’ she said. ‘If Ginny and Dean aren’t speaking …’ 

‘Oh-oh yeah,’ said Harry, you threw him a suspicious look. 

‘I wish my _romance_ also fell apart last night,’ you drawled dreamily. 

'Didn't Park plan on breaking up with you in front of the Slytherins? What's he waiting for?' asked Harry, happy to shift the course of the conversation from himself. 

'I dunno, but I'm getting too good at pretending to like him and it's honestly vomit-inducing.' you looked over at where Pansy and Draco were sitting. _Speaking of vomit inducing_. 

‘Flitwick,’ said Ron in a warning tone. The tiny little Charms master was bobbing his way towards the four of you, and Hermione was the only one who had managed to turn vinegar into wine; her glass flasks full of deep crimson liquid, whereas the contents of Harry’s, Ron’s and yours were still murky brown. 

‘Now, now,’ squeaked Professor Flitwick reproachfully. ‘A little less talk, a little more action … let me see you try …’ 

Together you raised your wands, concentrating with all your might and pointed them at the flasks. You were too busy daydreaming, and yet to try the incantation up until this moment. Now attempting the spell, you were able to turn the liquid into a deep crimson color identical to Hermione’s with relative ease. Harry’s vinegar, on the other hand, turned to ice; Ron’s flask exploded. 

‘Very good, Miss Jones, very good.’ he said at your work, reemerging from under the table and pulling shards of glass out of the top of his hat. ‘As for you boys,’ he glared at Harry and Ron, ‘ _practice_.’ 

‘Time to steal some vinegar from the kitchens,’ you joked after the bell rang. 

The four of you had one of the rare joint free periods after Charms and walked back together to the Gryffindor common room, where you quickly became a regular visitor. Ron seemed to be positively light-hearted about the end of his relationship with Lavender, and Hermione seemed cheerful, too, though when you asked what she was grinning about she simply said, ‘It’s a nice day.’ 

Harry, from the looks of it, had fierce thoughts raging inside his brain. He almost tripped climbing through the portrait hole into the sunny common room and did not notice a group of seven-years gathered there until Hermione cried: ‘Katie! You’re back! Are you OK?’ 

Katie, who was surrounded by her jubilant friends, looked perfectly healthy. ‘I’m really well!’ she said happily. ‘They let me out of St Mungo’s on Monday, I had a couple days at home with Mum and Dad and then came back here this morning. Leanne was just telling me about McLaggen and the last match, Harry …’ 

‘Yeah,’ said Harry, ‘well, now you’re back and Ron’s fit, we’ll have a decent chance of thrashing Ravenclaw, which means we could still be in the running for the Cup. Listen, Katie …’ 

Harry paused, gathering his thoughts to pose Katie the question that had been bothering him all this time. He dropped his voice as Katie’s friends started gathering up their things; apparently, they were late for Transfiguration. 

‘ … that necklace … can you remember who gave it to you now?’ 

‘No,’ said Katie, shaking her head ruefully. ‘Everyone’s been asking me, but I haven’t got a clue. Sorry, Harry …’ 

‘It’s okay. Glad you’re okay.’ Harry said, trying to hide his disappointment. 

Katie grabbed her bag and books, and hurried after her friends, leaving the four of you to ponder. 

The only person who was not particularly pleased to see Katie Bell back at school was Dean because it meant he would no longer be required to fill her place as Chaser. He took the blow stoically enough when Harry told him, merely grunting and shrugging, but you could hear Dean and Seamus muttering mutinously behind Harry’s back as he walked away. 

According to Harry, the following fortnight saw the best Quidditch practices he had as Captain. The Gryffindor team was so pleased to be rid of McLaggen, so glad to have Katie back at last, that they were flying exceptionally well. 

Ginny did not seem at all upset about the break-up with Dean; on the contrary, she was the life and soul of the team. At dinner her imitations of Ron anxiously bobbing up and down in front of the goalpost as the Quaffle sped towards him, or of Harry bellowing orders at McLaggen before being knocked out cold, kept the Gryffindor table amused and laughing. 

You could tell Harry’s feelings for Ginny were growing with every passing day - he could not help himself talking to her, laughing with her, walking back from practice with her - however, every time Ron walked in the room, he looked as if all joy had been sucked out of him at once. Unfortunately for Harry, after the poisoned mead incident Slughorn seemed to have given up the Slug Club parties - leaving no opportunity for Harry to spend some Ron-free time alone with Ginny. 

‘Can I talk to you, Jean?’ Harry pulled you aside after the Transfiguration class. ‘Privately …’ 

Anticipating a serious talk you took Harry to Hufflepuff common room where you knew neither Ron nor Hermione could find you. 

‘You’re a girl …’ Harry anxiously began. 

‘Yes.’ you replied chuckling, figured out where the conversation was heading. 

‘How would- let’s say if I wanted to ask a girl out …’ Harry continued, his eyes avoiding looking straight at you. ‘How would I go about that?’ 

You were surprised but also honored that Harry had decided to come with his confession to you rather than Hermione. She did have a particularly smug look on her face every time she spotted Harry staring at Ginny or laughing at her jokes. 

‘I think, you just need to ask Ginny out.’ you answered, smiling. 

‘How- how did you know it was Ginny?’ Harry asked, his pupils widened hearing her name. 

‘Harry,’ you raised an eyebrow at him, a wide smile spread on your face. ‘It’s not hard to tell when someone is in love.’ 

‘Do- do you think Ron’ll kill me?’ he asked hesitantly. 

‘I mean,’ you drawled, ‘Ron might not be too pleased at first, but you’re his best mate. He’ll be delighted that his sister is with someone he knows and loves.’ 

Your words seemed to have inspired confidence in Harry, yet, both of you shared the nagging worry that if he did not do it soon, somebody else was sure to ask Ginny out soon. 

The balmy days slid gently through May, and whether accidentally or on purpose, Ron seemed to be at Harry's shoulder every time he was in the same room as Ginny. No matter how many times you tried to pry Ron away to give Harry a chance in asking Ginny out, Joon somehow would sweep in and drag you away from Weasley, as if he patiently waited nearby for you to step away from Harry. With the approaching game the chances of Ron leaving them alone were looming: every second in Harry’s company, Ron wanted to talk tactics and had little thought for anything else. 

The interest in the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw game was running extremely high throughout the school for the match would decide the championship, which was still wide open. If Gryffindor beat Ravenclaw by a margin of three hundred points then they would win the championship. If they won by less than three hundred points, they would come second to Ravenclaw; if they lost by a hundred points they would be third behind Hufflepuff and if they lost by more than a hundred, they would be in fourth place and nobody would ever, ever let Harry forget that it had been he who had captained Gryffindor to their first bottom-of-the-table defeat in two centuries. 

You were just happy that you did not have to cheer against your house. Incidentally, the majority of Hufflepuffs were hoping for Ravenclaw to win to get silver for your house. 

‘Don’t you want your house to come in second?’ Joon asked you over another meal he dragged you to have with him at the Slytherin table. 

‘I couldn’t care less, to be honest.’ you replied dryly. ‘Why is everyone so obsessed with Quidditch, anyway?’ 

The Slytherins around gasped in shock from your controversial opinion on the most popular sport in the wizarding world. 

‘Then why do you care if Potter wins?’ Zabini, who sat in front of you, asked. You were so frequently dining with the Slytherins by this point that everyone in one way or another was used to your presence. Some even greeted you in the hallways and had small talks with you regarding school subjects. 

‘Because he is my best friend.’ you defended. ‘I know it’s a hard concept for you to understand but _Friendship is a relationship of mutual affection between people_.’ you added sarcastically, seeing an appalling confusion on Blaise’s face. He rolled his eyes. 

‘Of course, she doesn’t care for Hufflepuff, who would care for that pathetic house,’ sneered Parkinson with a high-pitched giggle that made your skin crawl. 

‘Shut your mouth, Pansy.’ Joon growled at Parkinson, she immediately quieted down. This time Malfoy was not there to defend her so she promptly finished her meal and left the table. 

You were perhaps the only person in the entire school who did not share the collective enthusiasm behind the upcoming match. The rest of the student body was riled up, supporting either Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. The run-up to the match had all the usual features: members of rival houses attempting to intimidate opposition teams in the corridors; unpleasant chants about individual players being rehearsed loudly as they passed; the team members themselves either swaggering around enjoying all the attention or else dashing into bathrooms between classes to throw up from stress. 

Somehow, the game had become inextricably linked in Harry’s mind with success or failure in his plans for Ginny. He kept trying to explain to you that if they won by more than three hundred points, the scenes of euphoria and a nice loud after-match party might be just as good as a hearty swig of Felix Felicis. You did not argue, letting him deal with the nerves in the way he thought was best. 

Even with all the preoccupations with the match, Harry seemed to have not forgotten your mutual ambition: finding out what Malfoy and Carrow were up to in the Room of Requirement. Infiltrated the Slytherins from inside, thanks to Joon, you heard chatters from here and there about Malfoy’s and Carrow’s journeys to the Room, but no one appeared to know anything about what exactly the two of them were up to in there. 

Harry was still checking the Marauder’s Map frequently, and although he was losing hope that he would ever succeed in getting inside, he attempted it whenever he was in the vicinity. But no matter how he or you tried to word your request to the Room, the wall remained firmly doorless. 

A few days before the match against Ravenclaw, Harry found himself determined to get into the room that very day. After dinner, secretly from Ron, who rushed off to the common room, and Hermione, who dashed off to see Professor Vector about a mistake she thought she might have made in her last Arithmancy essay, he took a gulp of Felix Felicis. 

‘Hey, can I borrow you,’ he came to collect you from the Slytherin table with a wide grin on his face. 

‘I have a good feeling about going to the seventh floor right now.’ he said as the two of you left the Great Hall. 

You did not question the effects of the potion and obediently followed him, skipping two steps at a time up the stairs. Harry led you down the corridor, checking the Marauder’s Map as he went. His eyes were scanning the document when he suddenly perked up. He turned on his heels, and shoved the map up to your face, painting at Draco Malfoy’s tiny, labeled dot standing in a boy’s bathroom on the floor below, accompanied, not by Crabbe or Goyle, but by Moaning Myrtle. 

‘I wouldn’t call that suspicious, Harry …’ you protested as he dashed down the marble staircase and along the passageway below. When the two of you reached the bathroom, Harry pressed his ear against the door. He shook his head, not being able to hear anything. 

‘We can’t just barge in-’ you were too slow to stop him, already he quietly pushed the door open. 

Malfoy was standing with his back to the door, his hands clutching either side of the sink, his white-blond head bowed. 

‘Don’t,’ crooned Moaning Myrtle’s voice from one of the cubicles. ‘Don’t … tell me what’s wrong … I can help you …’ 

‘I don’t know what’s bloody wrong with me,’ said Malfoy. His whole body was shaking. ‘This … this isn’t me … ’ 

And both Harry and you realized, with a shock so huge it seemed to root the two of you to the spot, that Draco was crying - tears streaming down his pale face into the grimy basin. You exchanged a look of concern with Harry and then turned back to Draco. Your heart exploded in your chest, your skin felt clammy as your body broke into a cold sweat. 

Malfoy gasped and gulped and then, with a great shudder, looked up into the cracked mirror and saw Harry staring at him over his shoulder. 

Draco wheeled around, drawing his wand. Instinctively, Harry pulled out his own, you quickly followed. You dashed to the side when Malfoy’s hex missed Harry by inches, shattering the lamp on the wall beside him; Harry too threw himself sideways, flicking his wand, but Malfoy blocked the jinx and raised his wand for another - 

‘No! No! Stop it!’ squealed Moaning Myrtle, her voice echoing loudly around the tiles room. You looked up at her - utter horror on her face. 

‘Harry stop it! STOP!’ you screamed, swiftly getting back to your feet. There was a loud bang that made you duck, covering your head - the bin behind Harry exploded. Harry attempted another spell that backfired off the wall behind Malfoy’s ear and smashed the cistern beneath Moaning Myrtle, who screamed loudly; water poured everywhere. Harry slipped over and you ran to shield him, slipping on the wet floor - now standing in between two of them. Malfoy, his face contorted, cried, ‘Cruci-’ 

Before the curse could land, you thought _Expelliarmus!_ , pointing your wand at Draco. In just a matter of a second Malfoy’s wand was knocked off out of his hand and flung away, falling somewhere behind him; at the same time, not noticing fast enough that you were now standing in front of Malfoy, Harry blindly bellowed _SECTUMSEMPRA!_. 

The terrible, sharp pain, as you had been slashed with an invisible sword all over, made your breath vanish from your lungs. Blood spurted from your face and chest. You staggered backward, looking at Harry’s petrified face, and collapsed onto the waterlogged floor with a great splash, your wand falling from your limp right hand. 

‘No -’ gasped Harry. 

Slipping and staggering, Harry got to his feet and plunged towards you. 

Malfoy’s eyes focused, and he shook his head as if he had been awoken from a deep slumber. The terror overtook his face: he stared at the pool of blood collecting around your body. 

‘Jean?’ his voice quivered. 

‘No - I didn’t -, no- Jean, please ….’ Harry, now kneeling in front of you, was frantically scrabbling at your blood-soaked chest, crying. 

The pain in your body that burned like fire was slowly fading away to an icy numbness. The edges of your vision black filled, the sound of your heartbeat pounded in your temples, quieting the distant sobs and cries. Your face was now covered in blood; you were choking on it, coughing violently. 

‘What did you do? What did you do, Potter?’ Malfoy cried, falling to his knees and pulling Harry from your uncontrollably convulsing in a pool of your own blood body. Moaning Myrtle let out a deafening scream. 

‘MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER!’ 

Malfoy was vigorously shaking incoherent Harry for answers when the door banged open and the two looked up: Snape had burst into the room, his face livid. Pushing the two of them aside roughly, he knelt over you, drew his wand, and traced it over the deep wounds Harry's curse had made, muttering an incantation that sounded almost like a song. The flow of blood seemed to ease; Snape gently wiped the residue from your face and repeated his spell. Now the wounds seemed to be knitting, you regained the feelings of your extremities. 

Harry was watching, horrified by what he had done, barely aware that he too was soaked in blood and water. Malfoy’s hands were shaking; he too watched Snape bringing you back from the brink of death. Moaning Myrtle was sobbing and wailing overhead. When Snape had performed his counter-curse for the third time, he had lifted you into a standing position. 

‘You need the hospital wing. There may be a certain amount of scarring, but if you take dittany immediately we might avoid even that … come …’ 

You tried to take a step but your ankle rolled, and you almost stumbled onto the floor if not for Snape’s arms lifting you again. Snape looked over his shoulder at Malfoy and Harry, then his eyes trailed to look ten feet behind Draco where the Slytherin’s wand was knocked off to. He looked back at Harry whose wand was still gripped in his hand. 

‘Draco, take Jean to the hospital wing, immediately.’ he ordered Malfoy, he took a second to get up and pick your frail body up into his arms. 

Then Snape turned to Harry. ‘And you, Potter … you wait here for me.’ he said in a voice of cold fury. 

Harry was still shaking, looking down at the wet floor, bloodstains were floating like crimson flowers across its surface. As Malfoy carried you to the exit, you lifted your hand weakly reaching at Harry as if you tried to take him with you; he looked at you, his expression overrun by guilt. 

You were falling in and out of consciousness when Draco laid you down onto the empty bed; Madam Pomfrey ran up in a hurry. Snape arrived moments later, explaining to the matron what happened, he somehow knew exactly how to reverse the damage done by the curse. 

Not losing any time, Madam Pomfrey closed the privacy screen and stripped you down to apply the dittany. She worked fast over your chest and face: greenish smoke billowed upward and when it cleared, you looked down to see the new skin stretched over now disappeared scars. Finished, she handed over a goblet with a potion you were too out of it to recognize. You gulped it down, scrunching your nose from a nasty flavor. 

You sat up in bed, feeling surprisingly well for a person who had almost bled to death on the floor about twenty minutes prior. Madam Pomfrey smiled as the color returned to your face, and opened the privacy screen again, leaving you alone to rest. 

Snape had long left to deal with Harry, but to your surprise, Draco, barely holding himself together, was standing just on the other side of the pulled curtain. 

You said nothing, staring into his stormy grey eyes as he stared back at you. His expression turned into one of anguish and guilt. 

‘Jean …’ he whispered weakly. Suddenly, he rushed to the side of your bed, kneeling and gripping your hand in both of his, head bowed. 

‘All this time … I was too weak to resist the curse … I’m sorry … I'm so sorry …’ he bewailed, his tears streaming down your hand, soaking the white sheet underneath. You did not speak, holding back your own avalanche of tears that had been building up. 

‘Seeing you laying there, covered in blood …’ Draco paused, his voice lowered. ‘I was able to gather all the strength I could … I couldn’t lose you …’ 

You were conflicted, a part of you wanted to throw yourself at Draco and forget all about the heartache and pain he had caused you, but another part could not forget, it demanded answers. 

‘What did you and Carrow do in the Room of Requirement?’ you suddenly said. 

‘Wha -?’ his head tilted upwards to look at you. ‘I- I don’t remember …’ 

‘What do you mean you don’t remember?’ you asked frustrated. 

‘Someone … I don’t remember who … cast an Imperius curse on me and Deimos. They probably ordered us to forget what we did.’ Draco said erratically, still holding onto your hand. 

Your conversation was abruptly interrupted by the double doors that swung open, the four Heads of Houses (Snape must have finished with Harry) and Dumbledore burst inside. 

From the looks on their faces, you could tell Snape had told them precisely what had happened. Professor Sprout looked horrified rushing to your side. Draco quickly backed off, clearing the way for the staff. 

Madam Pomfrey updated the staff on your condition and positively assured that in a couple of days you would be able to be discharged. That prospect did not please you even in the slightest but Dumbledore insisted that your recovery both physical and emotional could not be rushed. 

‘Harry didn’t know what the spell did!’ you exclaimed as the professors started arguing about Harry’s fate among themselves. 

‘That doesn’t excuse the use of Dark magic on school grounds!’ protested Professor Sprout. 

‘Such matter is going to be taken very seriously, Miss Jones, I promise.’ spoke McGonagall, her voice restrained but furious. ‘If not for Severus-’ 

‘That’s enough Minerva,’ Dumbledore spoke in a low, soft voice. ‘I believe that it’s best if we leave Miss Jones alone to rest. She endured enough for one day.’ 

The Headmaster walked up to Draco who was standing behind them completely still and put his hand on his shoulder. ‘Mr. Malfoy, I think we have a lot to talk about.’ Dumbledore said quietly. 

Malfoy followed him out. The four remaining professors walked out of the hospital wing one by one wishing you to get well soon as they left. 

Left alone in a dim-lit ward, you sank into the bed and looked at the ceiling. Your mind was taken by a plethora of thoughts and worries: if Draco was telling the truth it meant there was still someone out there behind the attacks - someone who was not afraid to use an Unforgivable Curse. But as your mind wandered anxiously, the rapidly growing worry for Harry overcame you. You were afraid he could have been expelled or severely punished, but what terrified you the most was the fact that your friendship could have been over. He was certainly blaming himself for what happened. You only hoped for everything to go back to normal when you left the ward and reunited with him. 

However, one persistent thought would not leave your brain - whatever potion it was that Harry took, could not have possibly been Felix Felicis - if luck was on someone’s side tonight - it was not Harry’s, it was yours.


	17. The Quidditch Cup

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay, so many things came up. Please enjoy <3

The news of what happened in the sixth-floor boy’s bathroom traveled fast: Moaning Myrtle had taken it upon herself to pop up in every bathroom in the castle to tell the story. By the next morning, the entire school knew of Harry’s “attempt” on your life. The story of what happened kept changing with every person retelling it to the other; some leaving Draco out of it altogether.

You woke up just as Madam Pomfrey came in with another portion of the awful tasting concoction she administered to you last night. Although the wounds left by Harry’s spell were all but gone - with an exception of a few particularly deep lacerations resulting in faded scars - you were still recovering from the immense blood loss you had suffered. Your body felt weak; your already low blood pressure was now barely high enough to keep you conscious. But as long as you remained in bed and did not strain yourself, you felt relatively well. 

It was just before breakfast when Hermione, Ron, and Ginny walked through the doors, their expressions bleak. They carefully approached the only occupied bed in the ward. 

‘Hey guys,’ you greeted in a hoarse voice. 

Hermione grabbed a chair and took a seat beside the bed, ‘We were really worried-’ 

‘This’s for you, from Neville …’ stated Ron, he was holding a potted rose plant charmed to change colors from white to pink (Neville remembered your trouble picking which color flowers you liked the most). The ginger-haired Gryffindor walked over and stood the ceramic pot on the side-table, then promptly sat beside Hermione. 

‘How are you feeling?’ hesitantly asked Ginny, looking you over. She stood behind Ron, leaning on the back of his chair. 

‘I’m OK, I think.’ you spoke weakly, your voice revealing the frail state of your body. ‘Snape patched me up pretty good …’ 

Surely you looked better than a person who had heard what happened would expect. 

‘Harry got rid of it, you know.’ Ron suddenly said, clarifying, ‘The book.’ 

‘How’s he?’ you asked. The atmosphere in the room tensed up, Hermione looked uncomfortable, Ron nervously glanced back at his sister. 

Although he was not expelled, Harry’s punishment was arguably worse: detention with Snape every Saturday until the end of the term. Also, it sounded like every single professor was tremendously disappointed and enraged, whole-heartedly supporting the punishment that Snape administered. Harry had faced heavy criticism from both teachers and students. On the other hand, Draco, exhaustively interrogated by Snape using the truth serum, was cleared of all wrongdoings, and avoided punishment altogether. 

You realized that if Harry was to be in detention every Saturday then, ‘But what about the match?’ you asked tentatively. 

‘Harry won’t play.’ Ginny answered dryly. ‘I’ll be playing Seeker, Dean has to rejoin as Chaser.’ 

The tension in the room thickened. Ginny’s attempts to conceal the disappointment and frustration in her voice did not go unnoticed, making you feel awfully guilty. You lowered your head and tugged on the blanket. 

‘I told him there was something wrong with that Prince person,’ Hermione said, evidently unable to stop herself. ‘And I was right, wasn’t I?’ 

‘You don’t know that,’ you said, sticking up for Harry who must have heard plenty of _I told you so’s_ by now. 

‘Jean, how can you stick up for that book when that spell -’ perplexed Hermione. 

‘Well, all I’m saying is that we don’t know, do we?’ you suggested, raising your voice ‘The Prince could have been making a note of something that had been used against him … He hadn’t written “Try this out, it’s really good.”’ 

‘You can’t be defending-’ 

‘Give it a rest, Hermione!’ snapped Ginny roughly. ‘Jean has been through enough.’ 

You and Ron stared: Hermione and Ginny, who had always got along together very well, were now sitting with their arms folded, glaring in opposite directions. Ron looked nervously at you. 

‘Harry is devastated, Jean.' mumbled Ron, gloomily. 'He can't forgive himself for what he did …' 

‘I don’t blame him, please tell him that.’ you quavered, in an attempt to prevent yourself from crying you stared at the sunlight through the window. 

Ginny walked over to sit on the edge of the bed, she wrapped her arms around your back and pulled you into a hug. Through the tight, comforting embrace you could feel Ginny’s pain; her heart was aching for Harry, just like yours. 

A stiff silence fell upon the room. Just a couple of days ago the four of you were happy, laughing, and cheering for Gryffindor’s success. Now, no one was able to look each other in the eyes; Harry could not even bring himself to come to see you. Despite your attempts to hold back the tears, all of sudden, the weight of the consequences of last night came crashing down. A single tear rolled down your face and once that first tear broke free, the rest followed in a stream. You bend forwards, breaking from Ginny’s hold, and pressing your hands to your face, you began to sob violently, your gasps echoed in the ward. 

‘Out!’ cried Madam Pomfrey running out of her office. ‘All of you, out!’ 

She hurried over and through protests and growls pushed the three of them out of the door, returning with a cup of the familiar blue, viscous Calming Draught. 

‘No more visitors today.’ declared Madam Pomfrey. 

An exception was made for your parents and Mina when they arrived just before lunchtime. Your father furiously walked through the doors - he was livid. They had just spent over an hour in Dumbledore’s office figuring out why no one thought necessary to inform them about the incident. He was particularly outraged since he had to receive the news from one of the Ministry employees, who somehow knew all about the situation before your family did. 

‘This school is a joke.’ your father sneered. ‘Not expelling Harry Potter-’ 

‘It wasn’t his fault!’ you bellowed. ‘I’m OK, see? He didn't mean to hurt me. Leave Harry alone, please’ you pleaded. 

'You heard Severus, love.' Said your mother who was now sitting on the bed next to you, gently rubbing your back in circles. 'Harry didn't know what the spell did. It was just an awful accident-' 

‘There seem to be too many accidents when it comes to Harry Potter’ your father scoffed, his forehead furrowed. He was pacing back and forth in front of the bed, his arms folded behind his back. 

‘You sound awfully similar to Lucius.’ your mother said in a warning tone, and glared at her husband disapprovingly, ‘you two sure were getting along earlier-’ 

‘Just because we both think Harry Potter should be expelled doesn’t mean we get along, Owena.’ your father fumed. ‘Don’t get me started on that son of his-’ 

‘Enough.’ Mina exclaimed, frustrated. ‘You can argue at home.’ 

Her words brought an end to the verbal altercation, your parents’ expression, however, still reflected their opposition with each other. All the glaring and bickering was getting too overwhelming and without Hannah or Ian to ease the situation, you could not wait for them to leave. Thankfully on the recommendation from Madam Pomfrey that you needed to rest, your parents made their way out of the wing. You could still hear your father belittling Harry on the other side of the doors. 

In the next few days, it seemed the entire school came to see how you were doing. The biggest surprise came in the form of Blaise Zabini who strolled through the doors the next morning, he carried a basket full of various Honeydukes sweets he said were from _a group_ of Slytherins. Making him eat a few to make sure they were, in fact, not poisoned, you happily accepted the gift. He stayed to fill you in on all the gossip within the Slytherin house you had missed. Pansy, who was dumped by Draco for the second time this school year, was now channeling all of the hatred boiling inside of her towards Harry, berating his hypocrisy for the use of Dark magic to whoever listened. 

By Friday morning you received so many gifts your bed became an island in a sea of boxes and baskets encircling around, some of them - a hand-made necklace of butterbeer corks Luna had made especially for you; Hagrid’s famous rock cakes, and 

‘In your state, you’re very susceptible to Nargles’ she explained. She and Neville had come to visit you the most, staying for hours to chat. 

Joon, who lost no time in vilifying Harry far and wide, attempted to visit you three or four times, each one - finding you asleep - a method you learned from Ron. Unluckily to you, he was not to give up until he caught you awake - craftily timing his arrival that morning with Madam Pomfrey serving you breakfast. 

‘You got suddenly all popular.’ he smirked, eyeing up the piles of presents around the bed. 

‘You sound disappointed.’ you quipped, putting aside the food tray. 

‘Did you hear about Malfoy?’ he seethed. ‘They believe his little story about the Imperius Curse-’ 

‘I believe him.’ you vehemently proclaimed. 

Your response was not what Joon expected to hear. He stared at you, narrowing his eyes as his brows drew together. 

‘Of course, you do.’ he smirked, rolling his eyes dismissively. 

‘What’s that supposed to mea-’ 

‘Another visitor for you.’ Madam Pomfrey’s sharp voice cut your question short, you looked over at her standing just behind Joon. 

'What are you doing here, _Draco_?' Joon growled at Malfoy whom the matron brought over. Madam Pomfrey then promptly retired to her office. 

'I can ask you the same question.' Malfoy replied, his jaw clenched. 

'I think I have a right to visit my _girlfriend_ at the hospital wing, don't you think?' Joon quipped, glaring at Malfoy. 

'Doesn't look like your _girlfriend_ is too happy to see you.' Draco scoffed, now standing almost face to face with Joon. 

'Can you two stop?' you replied curtly, not impressed by the sudden release of testosterone. 

'He tried to kill you.’ scorned Joon, not breaking eye contact with Malfoy even for a second. He rolled his shoulders to straighten his back, giving him an inch over Draco. 

‘You’re, what, a caring boyfriend now?’ Malfoy asked sardonically, cocking his head. 

Draco and Joon were staring at each other, not breathing, inches away from one another. 

‘Enough!’ you exclaimed loudly, distracting the two Slytherins from their standoff and making them turn to face you. ‘It’s _enough_!’ 

‘I’ll deal with you later, _Malfoy_.’ growled Joon, withdrawn back a step, ‘First I need to deal with Potter-’ 

'If you even as much as look at Harry the wrong way, I swear to God, Joon.' you interrupted him, threatening. 

He did not reply, throwing you a final glare as he marched out of the hospital wing, bumping into Draco’s shoulder hard on his way out. 

'We're not dating-' you immediately said - you thought it was important to clarify. 

'You don’t need to explain yourself, I have no right to be jealous-' said Draco, lowering his head, his hands resting on the metal bars of the bed. 'With everything I’ve done … ’ 

You preferred not to be reminded of Draco’s escapades while under the Imperius curse, so you quickly digressed from the subject. 

‘I’ve heard Snape made you take Veritaserum.’ you interrupted. 

‘Yeah.’ Draco jeered. ‘In front of all other professors-’ 

‘What is it?’ you asked, taking note of the smirk that crept onto his face. 

‘Well … ’ he drawled as he walked over to take a seat next to you. ‘In the process, I, sort of, might have revealed that I am in love with you …’ 

Your face washed blank with confusion, your brain gears could not turn fast enough to process Malfoy’s confession. Every muscle in your body froze before you shook your head and looked back at Draco, he was smiling fondly at you. 

‘You did what?’ you perplexed. The casual tone of his confession attached little importance to the gravity of his words. 

‘I guess I didn’t even realize it myself.’ he expressed, grabbing your hand in his. ‘Veritaserum made me tell the truth, so I did …’ 

He placed a soft kiss on your hand, his eyes tenderly gazed into yours. Your emotions ran rampant, making your heart flutter and your cheeks blush fiercely. 

‘Draco-’ you breathed, staring at his icy yet warm eyes. He looked down to your lips, and you knew what he was about to do, shutting your eyes in anticipation. 

As soon as the last syllable of his name escaped your mouth, Draco could no longer control himself: he lowered his face to yours, capturing your lips. 

You forgot how it felt to kiss him, how tender his touch was. The world was slowly disappearing around you, along with your worries, your troubles, your problems. His lips were soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. Your trembling fingers slid up his chest, reaching the collar of his shirt when you suddenly stopped and pulled away. Your hands shook as the image of Draco’s lips on Pansy, her giggling from his demanding touch, her pulling on his shirt every time they kissed, flashed before your eyes - you felt a sinking sensation in the pit of your stomach. 

'I can't … ' you whispered, pushing Draco away. 'I'm sorry.' 

'What's wrong?' he asked worried, seeing the look in your eyes as you pulled away. 

'I know it wasn’t really you … but-' you spluttered, your eyes wet. 

'I understand.' he muttered, his expression full of guilt. 'I've caused you so much pain and I'm so, so sorry.' 

‘I just need some time.’ you said quietly. Draco nodded and let go of your hand to give you space. 

Forgiving him for what he did, for what he was made to do, was easy. Your feelings for Draco were somehow so rooted in your soul that they could not end even if your body ceased to function, even on the darkest days - they were there, underneath it all. The past three months trying to get over Draco, only proved how much your heart yearned for him, how much you wanted to be by his side. Yet, forgiving was not forgetting, and no matter how many times he apologized, your heart ached - shattered - longing to be pieced together again. 

Whether you showed immense improvement or Madam Pomfrey was tired of the constant flow of visitors coming in and out of the hospital wing, by the next morning you had a clean bill of health - at last, you were free to leave. The big day for all of the Quidditch fans, it was equally exhilarating to you. 

By the time you walked out of the double doors, the corridors were already deserted, everyone was either already at the final match of the season or on their way out of the castle. On your way down to the dungeons, the distant sounds of the crowds chanting echoed from the walls. Mina and Ernie McMillian who were informed last minute by Madam Pomfrey about your discharge were helping you transport the presents you had received while recovering. 

Descending the stone steps, it was unbearable to think about Harry whose opportunity to play with his team was ripped away, who had to endure detention with Snape, not being able to hear a word of commentary or cheer, or groan. 

‘I think that’s all of them.’ said Mina, putting a box filled to the brim with chocolates and stuffed animals on the floor. 

‘Thank you.’ you said, bending down to pet Jiji, she was aggressively rubbing against your legs, purring loudly - happy to see you back. ‘You should go, you can still make it to the game.’ 

Mina hesitated at the dorm, ‘Are you not coming?' 

You gave her a negative headshake and Mina left, leaving just you and Jiji in your bedroom. You fell onto the bed; sinking into the soft mattress and the lavender scent of your sheets. Although you believed in Gryffindor's team, and in Ginny as a Seeker, you could not bear seeing them lose and instead would rather learn about their win after the fact then witness the defeat firsthand. The importance and pressure of Quidditch escaped your interest but it was directly correlated to your best friend's happiness, even if that best friend could not bring himself to look you in the eyes. 

You did not notice how Jiji's soft purring and gentle kneading relaxed your mind, drifting you into sleep. Your nap was interrupted by the loud chatter coming from the outside of the door; the crowds of Hufflepuffs started to flood the common room. Not being able to understand the incoherent banter that sounded at first cheerful, then upset, you walked downstairs to find out which team emerged victorious. 

You ran, practically sprinted towards the Gryffindor tower, pushing through the groups of students crowding the corridors. _If they won by more than three hundred points, the scenes of euphoria and a nice loud after-match party might be just as good as a hearty swig of Felix Felicis_ you remembered Harry insisting. You were certainly counting on that victory elation to finally speak to Harry - to put everything that happened between you two behind. You halted outside the crowded Great Hall, grasping a bottle of Felix Felics inside your pocket - in case you required some extra luck. 

‘ _Quid agis_?’ you heard a tentative voice just as you reached the top of the marble staircase. 

A Gryffindor was standing in front of the Fat Lady, hesitant to enter, ‘Harry?’ 

Harry’s body tensed up from the back, he slowly turned around to face you. 

You wanted to be upset, to scold him for not visiting you, for being a coward. But as your eyes met, tears shimmered in his and your heart clenched in your chest. In one swift movement, you dashed to wrap your arms around him, he embraced you back immediately, squeezing you tightly with so much force and eager that it pushed air out of your lungs. Harry’s head buried in your shoulder, the torrent of the sudden tears soaked through your robes. 

‘I’m sorry.’ he wept softly. ‘I’m so sorry.’ 

It was painful to see your friend like this, you could feel Harry clenching his fists, angry with himself, tormented by the guilt. 

‘Felix Filicis brought you some shit luck if you ask me.’ you muttered. 

Harry’s body shook lightly, then he jerked his head backward, bursting into laughter. 

‘Are you two going to come in, already?’ the Fat Lady shouted annoyed. Harry and you looked at each other and just like that it was back to normal. 

‘Do you know who won?’ Harry asked, unsure if he wanted to know the answer. 

‘You’ll see.’ you said, your expression unreadable as you replied. 

A roar of celebration erupted from the hole behind the portrait. Harry gaped as people began to scream at the sight of him; several hands pulled him into the room. 

‘We won!’ yelled Ron, bounding into sight and brandishing the silver Cup at Harry. ‘We won! Four hundred and fifty to a hundred and forty! We won!’ 

You looked around; Ginny was running towards Harry, she had a hard, blazing look in her face as she threw her arms around him. Whether it was indeed the post-victory euphoria or happiness he felt from finally reconciling with you but without thinking without planning it, without worrying about the people around watching, Harry lifted Ginny up and kissed her. 

The room had gone very quiet as they broke apart. Several people world-whistled and there was an outbreak of nervous giggling. You looked over at the other side of the room to see Dean Thomas holding shattered glass in his hand and Romilda Vane looking as though she might throw something. Hermione, who stood next to you was beaming. Your eyes quickly fell upon Ron, he was still clutching the Cup and wearing an expression appropriate to having been clubbed over the head. For a fraction of a second he looked at Harry, then he gave a tiny jerk of the head as you understood to mean, ‘Well - if you must.’ 

Harry grinned down at Ginny, then his eyes trailed to find you among the crowd and he smiled at you as if he was thanking you for this moment. The newly formed couple left wordlessly out of the portrait hole, leaving the rest of the Gryffindors to celebrate without them. 

_Felix Felicis worked afterall_ , you thought before they disappeared.


End file.
